


Gold Holds No Value Here

by Sheksper



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magical Realism, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bisexual Keith (Voltron), Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Curse Breaking, Curses, Fairy Tale Curses, Fluff and Angst, Galra Keith (Voltron), Gambler Lance, Gen, M/M, Making Out, Mild Sexual Content, Penelope AU, Pining Keith (Voltron), Pining Lance (Voltron), Royal Keith, Running Away, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Acceptance, Self-Esteem Issues, Strangers to Lovers, Swans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-01
Updated: 2018-07-05
Packaged: 2019-04-30 12:31:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 23
Words: 81,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14497053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sheksper/pseuds/Sheksper
Summary: All his life, Keith had been told he needed to marry a royal, just like him. And for the past four years of his life, he had been meeting suitors from all over the country to find one that would accept him. The only problem was that Keith was cursed with the face of a monster from the moment he was born until the moment that a royal finally chose to take one for the team and marry him.But no one wanted to marry Keith.Except some gambler off the street who liked to fool himself into thinking he was only there for the money. Yeah. That guy.





	1. Love You like I Love My Split Ends

**Author's Note:**

> Whoa ho ho! It's me, I'm back. I have another fic for y'all!  
> First off, I want to apologize for taking three hundred years to write this, I know that's not like me. While I was posting my last fic, I was also writing the next one so that it would be done by the time I was finished posting the previous one. Except, the fic I was writing wasn't flowing. It was a huge mess and nothing was connecting. It was supposed to be this crazy, over-the-top comedy, but I couldn't hack it. So, I had to start over. Then I got busy. And all in all, I was really slow to finish this. Still, it is here now. AND It's my first fic that has ever had twenty chapters! So more updates which means that it'll last longer.  
> Now let's get started.

They say that no one loves you as much as your parents, but if that’s true, then I must be unlovable. My parents weren’t unkind people, and they didn’t actively go out of their way to hurt me. In fact, for all that they had to deal with regarding me, I wouldn’t blame them. If I was in their situation, I would have done the same thing. It wasn’t their fault that I was born this way.

My parents were wealthy people.

Proprietor of the world’s largest and highest quality jewelry company, Marmora’s, my mother, Krolia Marmora, was one of the most beloved and revered people in the country. Although she never started the company herself, it was passed down through many generations from mother to daughter, growing even more powerful with every hand it was passed to. It was incredibly impressive, the way Krolia ran her business. She was never one to pull punches about anything, not in her business, and not in her life. That’s why it doesn’t surprise me that she left me at such a young age. That’s also why my name doesn’t match hers.

My father, Akira Kogane, was born into the royal family, a blue blood, unlike Krolia. Although many of the marriages between nobles were arranged for one reason or another, Akira and Krolia’s was not. They truly cared for each other and wanted to be together, despite Akira’s family disapproving of the marriage. They wanted him to marry a noble and to carry on the status. Despite Akira being born into his money, he still humbled himself by going to university and becoming a genealogist. One would think that the guy was just a fan of history and lineage, but I know that he only picked this area of interest because of me. I managed to change my parents’ lives in a lot of ways, it seems, and not in the ways a child should.

When Krolia was due to have me, excitement rippled not only through my family, but also through the entire city, and neighbouring cities around it. There were always paparazzi following my parents around, but as the due date grew nearer, the number of them had started to pick up. It had been like that when my cousin, Takashi “Shiro” Shirogane, was born. People have always been invested in the lives of the Marmora’s and the Kogane’s.

It was never a problem for either of my parents though. They were never camera shy, welcoming cameras into nearly every aspect of their lives. Krolia had grown up around that sort of popularity, as had Akira. Shiro was raised to get used to seeing his face plastered everywhere from the newspaper to the television screen. And I’m sure that I would have grown up in the same way.

If I had been normal.

But I wasn’t. So, my face was never plastered anywhere, not even our family home. My photo has never even been taken before. After my birth, Krolia left almost immediately. She was appalled that she had given birth to me and blamed Akira entirely, all due to his Kogane name. Akira continued to look after me, but he hid me away from everyone, never allowing me to speak to anyone or to move to the outside world. Eventually, he couldn’t bear to look after me anymore and handed me off to my uncle, who also struggled to care for me.

His son, my cousin, Shiro, was the only one who ever showed me any form of love. I think it’s because Shiro doesn’t have a mean bone in his body and he couldn’t bring himself to leave me on my own. Once he was old enough, he bought his own place designed specifically to house me in secret, complete with passages and one-way mirrors. He married a nice gal named Allura; a princess. She worries about me constantly and is always ensuring that I’m hidden from the outside world, but I know she means the best. Her advisor, Coran, also works his hardest to protect me from anybody. They all just think that people are out to hurt me.

Because, despite the fact that Akira and Krolia told the world that I had been a stillborn and that that was the reason they had been torn apart, the people were not so stupid. They knew the truth behind why the Kogane child was hidden away.

The problem was all derived from the fact that Krolia was not a royal or a noble. Her blood wasn’t – metaphorically – blue. And that, for whatever reason, seems to be a big issue for everyone in Akira’s family. They’re extremely paranoid about letting anyone into the family who isn’t of a high status. They’ve always been that way. So, even though Krolia was an incredibly successful and powerful woman, she would never be enough to quell the fears of Akira’s relatives. That fear being the result of the fabled curse.

As the local legend went, a curse had been put on the Kogane family years ago. It all began with my great-great-great-grandfather, Sven Kogane. He was a man of very high standing. In a time where all marriages were for the sake of alliances and keeping the noble title going, it was very rare for anyone to fall in love with their spouse before the marriage. And yet, that was what had happened, except not for Sven. It was for the woman who was set to marry him. A blue-blooded, red-headed countess named Hira had had her heart completely stolen by Sven.

Sven, on the other hand, hadn’t felt the same. He became infatuated with a servant girl named Romelle. In her, Sven saw a future, and she seemed to see the same thing. They had planned to get married and disregard Sven’s arranged marriage as well as all class laws. Despite the fact that his entire family rejected the new marriage and Sven himself, he didn’t back down. He defended his love for Romelle to his dying breath until she was awarded noble status and allowed to live as a royal.

And Hira, well, she was humiliated. Who wouldn’t be, in that day and age? That was one of the highest insults that anyone could have performed. It was bad enough that he chose a servant girl over a noble woman, but it was made worse by the fact she really did love him. Still, it came as a shock to the entire town when Hira leaped off a cliff to her death.

Following the death of her only daughter, the royal sorceress, Honvera, placed a curse on the entire Kogane lineage in an act of revenge for the humiliating death of her daughter. She spread animal Quintessence over the property and commanded that the next Kogane to marry someone unapproved and without blue blood would be cursed with monsters for children.

“And only when one of your kind claims the child as their own, ‘til death do they part, will the curse be broken.” Those were the terms of the curse. Words that I have memorized after having them repeated to me countless times. Couldn’t forget them if I tried.

But, time passed. The children grew up, got married, and had their own children. As luck would have it, Sven and Romelle’s blue-blooded children only married other royals, giving birth to blue-bloods, who all birthed blue-bloods, who all birthed blue-bloods. Finally, after five generations free of the curse, born to the Kogane family of a royal and a woman considered a commoner, the first half-blue-blood. Born with purple splotches of skin dispersed across his entire body, solid yellow eyes lacking pupils, sharp fangs, and furry cat-like ears. The monstrous child; Keith Kogane.

Me.

 

◊ ◊ ◊

 

“Keith. Dear, sweet, Keith,” the man before him blathered. He stared at the mirror ahead of him, his eyes flickering across it sporadically. There was a desperate look in his eyes, which really didn’t match with his clean-cut suit and flowing white hair. “I’d given up all hope of ever finding anyone who truly understands me,” he havered, his voice low and serious.

Keith, who had been sitting on the other side of the one-way glass, stilled his hands as they were in the middle of folding his twelfth origami swan. He had been building them the entire time that this man was speaking to him from the adjacent room. Keith lolled his head across the cubbyhole frame where he was stretched out, covered in paper birds, and stared at the guy.

Lotor was his name. He seemed a little bit too self-important, in Keith’s opinion. He had been blabbering on for awhile, offering nothing but empty compliments to Keith through the glass. The words were mostly going into one of Keith’s cat ears and out the other. They were all things he’d heard a thousand times before, and he didn’t doubt that he’d hear them a thousand times after, too. Lotor was an artificial charmer, Keith could tell. It wasn’t uncommon to come across these types of people, and Keith had, a lot more often than he wanted to, honestly. Just looking at Lotor’s snooty face made Keith roll his eyes. He had an expression like he was judging everyone around him constantly, and his tone was just slightly too condescending to be sincere. Keith had caught him sneering at the little waiting room’s furniture when he had first come in, when he hadn’t known that Keith was watching him.

And yet, he was _still speaking._ “I had given up all hope, that is, until I met you.” He stared hard at the mirror, probably guessing where he thought Keith’s eyes were. He was off. By a lot.

Keith almost scoffed at how cheesy the line was, but he managed to hold his tongue. The disgusted scrunch of his face couldn’t be stopped though. It was times like this when Keith was the most thankful for the one-way glass. He could just leave right then if he wanted to, and what would Lotor do? Nothing. If Keith did leave though, he would just be dragged right back by Allura with Shiro and Coran backing her up. They were all watching the entire conversation with a camera aimed at Lotor. Allura had it linked up to a television in the kitchen.

Keith could practically hear her now as she stared intensely at the screen, probably whispering, “I knew it. He’s the one,” while Shiro offered a hesitant, “He might be…” and Coran exclaimed an excited, “Let’s hope for the best!” That was how it usually happened.

It was incredible that, after finishing his twelfth swan and setting it up next to the other eleven of varying colours, Lotor still wasn’t finished rambling on. “You see, like you, I’ve felt imprisoned most of my life,” he admitted.

At that, Keith froze. He flicked his golden eyes up to squint at Lotor, even though he wasn’t seen. “Really?” Keith nearly spat, his eyebrows drawing together. “By what?” he prodded. The tone in his voice was a dare, a threat for Lotor to watch his step. “Your good looks and your good name?” Keith let the sarcasm seep into his words like venom sinks into prey.

Of course, the narcissistic man wasn’t one to think too deeply about inflection, or perhaps he just chose to ignore it, because once more, he continued, “Yes, exactly!” A smile graced his face, and Keith would have almost considered him moderately attractive without that upturned nose expression marring his features. Except, he didn’t, because it was at that point that Keith was starting to find substance beneath Lotor’s words.

“No one ever seems to see past that. No one,” he furthered. “And Keith… Dear, sweet, Keith… curse or no curse, if I am more than my name and my face, then surely you’re more than yours.” There was a moment of silence as Keith stared at Lotor, and Lotor stared blankly at the mirror. “Let me in…” he whispered to the glass.

Keith sighed to himself. There it was again. Everyone always wanted him to come out so they could see his face. Everyone was so curious about the effects of the curse. That was why Keith had to be set up to meet people through the one-way glass anyway, so that he wouldn’t scare them all away immediately. That didn’t change anything though, it just revealed how much people didn’t keep their word. Every time, they would tell him that it didn’t matter what he looked like, and every time, Keith would exit the safety of his room just to be rejected again and again. He was sick of how predictable it was. Lotor would be the same.

“Let me in, Keith,” Lotor cooed again.

Keith looked once more at Lotor, harrumphed in his mind, and then swung his legs down from the indent in the wall. He marched through his room, following along the same wall that the glass was on until he reached the door handle leading to the annex. On the other side, it just appeared as a bookshelf so that no one tried to get into Keith’s bedroom. It was truly just designed to hide Keith away.

He turned the handle of the door and sucked in a breath. The only thing that was giving him the strength to face yet another rejection was the thought that Allura would screech the moment she saw the bookshelf being pushed away from the wall on her little monitor. She hated when he showed suitors his face. Keith’s lips quirked into a smile and he shoved the door open. With cocksure steps, Keith stepped into the annex.

Lotor startled back at the sudden movement from the shelf, but then his eyes widened as he took in Keith’s appearance before him. The purple blemishes were clearly visible painted along his collarbones and neck. There was a large one on the side of his jaw and another diagonally across on his other cheek. One of his blotches was on his forehead where it couldn’t be seen underneath his bangs. His fangs were clearly sticking out of the smirk he had wandered in with. They gleamed in the dull light of the annex. His yellow eyes seemed to be staring everywhere and nowhere all at once, creating an unnatural and unnerving aura to him. And most noticeable were the cat ears that sat atop his head, twitching and following sounds as if they had a will of their own.

“Hey,” Keith greeted simply. He stood there, his hip cocked out to the side and his arms crossed over his chest.

Lotor was broken out of his frozen state of shock after hearing Keith’s voice in person. His face morphed into a look of unbelievable horror and disgust. Nose scrunched up, eyes squinted, upper lip raised, and eyebrows drawn inward, Lotor released a revolted whine. With rapid and confused twitches, Lotor scrambled his way around the couch in the centre of the room, closer to the door. He never let his eyes move away from Keith until he was at the door. He flung the door open and stumbled out into the hallway.

“Oh, Lord,” he breathed. Then he was gone, taking off down the hallway at top speed.

Keith sighed again as he heard Lotor shouting. He didn’t wait another moment before turning back to his secret bookshelf door and disappearing back into his bedroom. The shelf echoed as it locked behind Keith. He leaned back into the wall on the other side and stared blankly at the ceiling. His eyes slid shut and a steadying breath escaped his lips as his hands clenched into fists at his sides. Nothing about Lotor had appealed to Keith, and he hadn’t wanted to impress Lotor in any way, but all the same, the strong rejection didn’t hurt any less. His heart ached.

Rolling his head along the wall, Keith stared hard at his tiny collection of origami swans of varying colours. He absently thought about stringing them up and hanging them from his ceiling. That was something he could do later. Instead, Keith steeled his emotions and pushed off the wall, heading purposely for the main exit from his room which lead down to the kitchen. That’s where he would find Shiro, Allura, and Coran after they were all finished chasing after the latest suitor who had fled from the house screaming every time, just like clockwork.

By the time Keith stomped down the stairs and into the kitchen, he just managed to make out the distant voice of Lotor hollering, “He’s a demon!” Keith peeked around the corner of the kitchen to see out into the foyer where the front door was wide open. Coran was sprinting across the long mansion driveway after Lotor. Keith’s eyelids drooped in unimpressed exhaustion.

“Keith, why?” Shiro’s disappointed voice called out from the other side of the kitchen.

Keith turned back from the foyer. He didn’t want to meet Shiro’s eyes, so rather than stand there and be berated once again, he just rolled his eyes and pushed past him to search through the cupboards for something to eat. “Hey, I wasn’t the one who ran, Shiro,” he shot back.

“Of course, they run, Keith!” Allura cried as she entered the room with an exasperated huff. “What do you expect when you surprise them like that?” She glared at Keith, as if he was the one who had made the mistake here. “Do you think I showed Shiro my weird birthmark on our first date? No, I had the good sense to wait until we were married.” She stood akimbo as she faced Keith, like a scolding mother.

Keith groaned and yanked the box of Froot Loops off the top shelf. “I didn’t show him my birthmark, I showed him my face!” Keith argued, growing more and more angry with every word that was spoken to him. Why couldn’t a guy just disappear into his room and drown his sorrows in a box of Froot Loops without being harassed?

“Calm down! Both of you!” Shiro reprimanded, looking between Allura and Keith while putting his hands up.

Keith glared pointedly at Shiro before jamming his hand into the box, ripping out a handful of cereal pieces, and dumping them all into his mouth. It was an act of defiance.

Allura seemed to clam down at that, a heavy sigh escaping her as she relaxed her arms to her sides. “Oh, Keith,” she breathed sadly. “He really liked you,” she told him softly. There was a sympathetic look in her eye as she stepped closer to Keith.

Not having it, Keith just scrunched his face up harder. “If he liked me so much, then why did he run?” he rhetorically asked, burning holes in his cereal box with the force of his glare.

Allura answered anyway, taking it as an opportunity to remind Keith once more what she had been reminding him of every day since she had met him. “He liked _you,”_ she stated pointedly. “He just didn’t like your inhuman parts. But it wasn’t you, Keith.” Looking up from the box, Keith stared at Allura. An encouraging smile graced her features, making her appear much softer and more comforting than before. Behind her, Keith could see as Shiro nodded in agreement.

Keith couldn’t help the way his heart dropped a little bit, even though he knew they were trying to make him feel better. “Right… Yeah…” he mumbled, staring down at his hands again. There were purple marks sticking out of the sleeves of his red sweater and he instinctively moved to pull the sleeves down, covering them back up. “It isn’t that he doesn’t like me, it’s just that he doesn’t like… me…”

Shiro stepped forward then, placing a gentle hand on Keith’s shoulder in support. “Keith, what we mean to say is that you’re more than your curse.”

Allura brightened, “Exactly. You’re not you, you’re someone stuck in this body.”

Once more, they both smiled kindly at Keith, who just nodded in silent acknowledgement. He swallowed hard and gripped his box of Froot Loops a little bit too hard. Then, with a plastered-on smile, he spun around and returned to his room.

On his way out, he nearly ran into Coran as the advisor rushed back into the room, panting. “The bugger got away on me,” Coran told them. He stretched out his legs dramatically, his eyes popping a little bit as one of his joints cracked.

Keith heard Shiro mutter one last thing to Allura before he was out of earshot. “We should really get them to sign the confidentiality agreement before we send them in to meet Keith.” There was an obvious frown in his voice. Keith quickly rushed back to the staircase near the rear of the kitchen which led to his room, escaping any further conversation.


	2. I Guess I Need My Life to Change

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, hello, and welcome.

The effects of the Kogane family curse were much worse than anything that anyone had imagined them to be. Especially considering no one would ever admit to believing in the curse. Half of Keith’s relatives under the same name only married other blue-bloods because they wanted to ensure that the curse wasn’t passed onto their children, but they didn’t want to admit it out loud. A good portion of them only married other blue-bloods because they truly believed that high status people should marry within their class, which Keith thought was such a load of bullshit. There were a few family members of his that just spent a lot of time around other nobles anyways and ended up falling for one of them.

Whatever the case, Keith was the only Kogane to have ever faced the effects of the curse. Rather than setting the stage for everyone else, however, he was just learning to deal with it on his own. Allura, Shiro, and Coran were all there for him, of course, but they had no idea how Keith felt, not truly.

When Keith had been born, Akira and Krolia had attempted to find ways to reverse the effects of the curse through surgical procedures. Science had come a long way since the days when the curse was placed. It could be fixed, surely.

Except, that wasn’t the truth of it. Keith’s ears – his most prominent feature – couldn’t be removed as they were fully working and functioning ears. To remove them would be to take Keith’s hearing away and alter his ability to balance, which, at such a young age, could have impaired his ability to walk when he was older. As much as the twitchy little cat ears really bothered Krolia, they weren’t going to be coming off.

The yellow slates that were Keith’s eyes didn’t have anything fundamentally wrong with them either, other than that they looked strange to outsiders. Changing his eye colour wasn’t exactly something they could just alter without blinding Keith completely. The doctors had suggested getting Keith into realistic-looking contacts once he was old enough, but that was about all they could really do.

Keith’s fangs weren’t a problem, again, aside from the aesthetic points. X-rays were taken of Keith’s mouth which revealed that there were no baby teeth above them. Those were his fangs for life. If they removed them, Keith would either have giant holes there, or he would have fake teeth, and doctors really didn’t recommend the fang removal at such a young age either.

As for the splotches of purple that marked Keith’s skin, those weren’t diseases or bruises, even though they appeared like it. Nothing could be done about them. Other than applying makeup, doctors could come up with nothing. They had prescribed various creams for the marks, but the purple remained and doctors were stumped.

All in all, Keith was a perfectly healthy baby, even with all his strange quirks. The advice that the doctors had given to Keith’s parents to cover up the oddities all required patience and waiting for Keith to be old enough. That was probably why none of them ever worked, or were even considered, because neither of his parents stayed long enough to try them out.

Rather than solve the problem of Keith’s appearance, his new family – Shiro, Allura, and Coran – decided to try a different approach; solve the problem of other people until they could quietly reverse the curse. And it had worked. Keith had lived twenty-one long years in solidarity, being locked inside of the house, never allowed to play with the neighbourhood kids. Not that it mattered, because on the occasions when he was able to sneak his way out of the house to play with them, they all stared at him in fear before running away. Allura yelled at him on those days.

Keith never blamed his makeshift family for the way they treated him, because it wasn’t their fault. It was Keith’s curse. In a way, Keith considered it all his own fault. It wasn’t like there weren’t bad people out there trying to hurt or exploit Keith, because there were.

Keith could vividly recall the time that a woman with cropped, purple hair had broken into the mansion. Keith had only been up to get a drink of water before bed, but he had dropped and shattered the entire glass as a result of the fear that had shot through him upon seeing a stranger in his home. Before the woman could even notice him, he was already rushing out of the room to alert the others about the intruder. That was an intense night. Keith had hidden in another room and listened as Allura had shrieked at the woman and beat her with a wooden spoon from the kitchen. Shiro had tried to calm her down, but Allura wasn’t having it. Coran had been the rational one to call the police. It had turned out that the woman was a reporter and had been trying to get a picture of the fabled monster child, but all she had left with were injuries due to Allura’s barrage with the spoon.

This was why Allura, Shiro, and Coran were so insistent on finding Keith a suitor. As per the curse’s conditions, he needed to find someone of his own kind who would accept him ‘til death do they part. Ever since Keith had turned eighteen, they had been searching for possible matches to Keith. Anyone who would marry him and lift the curse, just anyone. They were screened for their royal status, their background, and their willingness to court Keith. There was a substantial dowry offered to anyone who would marry Keith as well, just to sweeten the pot.

And yet, time after time, it didn’t matter how many men and women were sent into the annexe to meet Keith, it didn’t matter how tough they considered themselves, it didn’t matter how much money was offered, they all ended up running away screaming. They were even made to sign a confidentiality agreement after they had seen Keith to ensure they would keep quiet about Keith’s appearance.

Keith was twenty-one. People had run from him for four years straight. Every time Keith actually thought that he might have made a connection with someone, he was once again proven wrong once they finally saw him. Keith didn’t even care anymore. He just wanted to get every meeting over and done with. His family was getting frustrated with Keith’s apathy – Allura especially – and Keith knew it, but he just didn’t have it in him to watch people run away screaming any longer.

For as low and shallow as Lotor was, Keith still couldn’t quell the hurt that throbbed in his heart. He sat cross-legged in the egg-shaped spinning chair that sat in the corner of his room. A blanket was wrapped around his shoulders and draped over his head, hiding him away from having to deal with his problems. He poked holes through the centres of his paper swans with a pin and threaded a piece of twine through them. With every little swan he added to his string, he filed his pain deeper and deeper within himself. Far enough away that he could no longer feel it, numbing himself to the ache.

And once he was done, he tied off the string and stared at his swan chain in silence.

 

◊ ◊ ◊

 

Lotor slammed his palms on the counter, attempting to intimidate everyone around him. They all just watched on, unimpressed. He leaned across the desk enough to get intimidatingly close to the other man’s face, but not enough that he was forced to breathe the man’s exhalant. “I know what I saw!” he shouted, his voice commanding attention which wasn’t given to him.

The police chief standing before him didn’t falter. His eyes closed briefly as he sighed, not in the slightest bit amused by Lotor’s antics. “Right, a demon. You said that,” he agreed, nodding. The man’s face was pulled down into a tight frown which only became more pronounced with every second that Lotor continued to scream in his face.

And scream in his face, he did, “So, are you going to arrest him, or not?!” Lotor’s eyes blazed and fists clenched.

“Look, buddy,” the officer blandly spoke, “we can’t arrest people for being ugly, alright? Why don’t you just leave the poor guy alone?” he absently tapped a pen against the counter, a gesture of impatience.

“You don’t understand,” Lotor practically hissed. “You’ve heard of the Kogane Curse, haven’t you? It’s _not_ a joke. When he had first mentioned it to me, I thought it was merely a figure of speech. It’s not, and I don’t know what _that thing_ is capable of, but I do know that if I hadn’t gotten out of there when I had, I wouldn’t be standing here now.”

The police chief stared at him with an unimpressed eyebrow raised. His lips smacked comically when he opened them a moment later. “I wish you weren’t standing here now…” he muttered. “In fact, I’m putting you in holding.” He made eye contact with two police officers who had been standing nearby, listening to Lotor’s ramblings. With the flick of his head, the two officers were summoned over, and before anything could be done about it, they were already dragging Lotor off.

“What?! No! You’re making a mistake!” he cried indignantly. “I’m reporting him! He’s the monster!” No one listened to him. How could these imbecilic people not tell that they were all in grave danger? If nothing was done about that beast, then who knows how many were in danger. Lotor was a man of honour, and to let that creature living under the Kogane title roam free was just doing a disservice to the people of his good city. No, not even a disservice, that word wasn’t strong enough. He would be committing a moral crime. Lotor knew what had to be done.

He stumbled down the hallway as the police officers led him to the lockup. Even as he shouted at them, they still continued to ignore him. Finally, they reached the cells, where Lotor was quickly tossed into the first one. They locked the door, promising him he would be released in the morning, but Lotor only screamed more. He tried a couple of different tactics, ranging from “Do you know who I am?!” to “When my father hears about this, you’ll all be fired!” but nothing worked. It took awhile, but he eventually slumped down onto the bed, resigned to spending the night in a dingy, cold cell.

The only thing more embarrassing than being locked up in the cell was the amount of time he had spent being fooled by a demon through a mirror.

 

◊ ◊ ◊

 

Allura’s shoes clacked as she hurried through the house, echoing off the high ceiling. Her brows were worried together in determination. She marched through the kitchen and up the little staircase hidden in the back, out of the way. Ascending the stairs quickly, she reached the door at the top. Everything was silent and peaceful, in a melancholy sort of way, but she had absolutely no problem ruining that in favour of the issue that had suddenly befallen the entire household on that day.

There wasn’t a second to waste, not after what had happened. She had been having a perfectly lovely morning, even after the entire fiasco from the day before. It was a bit of a worry that they hadn’t gotten Lotor to sign the confidentiality agreement before he was booking it across the lawn, but after speaking with Shiro and Coran for awhile, she came to accept that, maybe, perhaps, everything would be alright and Lotor would choose to forget the entire ordeal.

Wrong. That was not what happened. Coran had brought the morning newspaper to her while she was in the lounge, a cheery smile on his face as he set it and her tea down on the coffee table. It was as though nothing was wrong, and a new day had begun, fresh and ripe for the picking. Then she had picked up her tea, let the steam flow over her face to cleanse her of her morning drowsiness, and picked up the newspaper to read about the current events.

That was when everything went horribly wrong. And that was why she was barging in through the little wooden door at the top of the staircase without a single knock.

With the flick of her hand against the light switch, the entire room flooded with light, eliciting a groan from the bed near the corner. “Time to wake up!” Allura called out. She didn’t stop her purposeful stride for even a second. “Get up, Keith, this is urgent!”

The boy in the bed just whined again. Allura frowned as the covers were shuffled farther upwards, burying the fluffy head of black hair underneath.

She tossed her newspaper onto the bedside table. Beside the bed, there was a window with the blinds drawn. She grabbed the string and yanked it back, revealing a painted picture of a meadow with a sun shining brilliantly in the corner. Just because Keith wasn’t able to go outside, didn’t mean that Allura had to deprive him of the atmosphere. She didn’t want him to feel trapped in his own home, just like he was trapped in his own body. That wasn’t fair, not to anyone in the household. There wasn’t a lot that Allura wouldn’t do to keep Keith happy, even with the difficult hand he had been dealt at life. It wasn’t Keith’s fault that the curse had claimed him. Often times, Allura found herself viewing Keith as a son or a nephew, instead of… whatever relation he actually had to her. Cousin-in-law…?

Allura stared over Keith’s curled body with her hands on her hips. “Keith, get out of bed!” she demanded again.

“Why…?” came a muffled whine from beneath the covers.

“Allura, what’s all the commotion about?”

Allura whipped her head over to the door of Keith’s room to see Shiro hesitantly entering, a look of confused trepidation on his face. “Shiro, you’re here, perfect!” Allura greeted. “You can help Keith pack.” She turned her back to him and marched to the far side of the room where Keith’s closet was. From inside, she retrieved a suitcase and dragged it over to the bed.

By the time she got back, Keith was already blearily emerging from his blanket barrier. His eyes were clouded and dazed from just waking up. Hair stuck up in all different directions from atop his head, and, although he ran a hand through his hair to tame it, it remained a tangled mess. His giant ears twitched as he yawned quietly before smacking his lips together and squinting at the suitcase at the end of his bed. “Allura, what’re you doing?” he mumbled groggily.

“We’re moving,” Allura decided as she scooped up a handful of Keith’s shirts from his closet and hauled them over to the suitcase.

“What?!” Shiro cried indignantly.

Keith’s eyes widened, suddenly becoming wide awake. “What the fuck do you mean we’re moving?”

Allura grabbed the paper off the nightstand and handed it to Keith before jogging back over to the closet to collect more things. “You have to help me pack!”

Keith picked the paper up and stared at the front cover. Shiro settled onto the bed next to him and read over his shoulder. “Oh, Lotor had a breakdown?” Keith asked disbelievingly.

“That’s terrible. See, Keith, this is why you have to ease them into it,” he gently scolded.

Keith scowled at Shiro, the yellow in his eyes making him more intimidating. “Ease them into it?” he echoed.

Allura clapped her hands together, catching both boys’ attention. “You’re missing the point! Read it!” She stalked over to the other side of the bed and jabbed a manicured finger into the page. “Right there! Hallucinations of a demon boy! I can’t believe he would even call Keith that!”

“You’re right,” Shiro realized, “this could expose Keith. All of us, really.” He grabbed the paper from Keith to further skim it.

Keith sighed, “Can we at least move to the desert?”

Shiro brightened, glancing to Keith with a grin. “That’s a great idea! The desert is very scenic.”

“Or we could go to Japan,” Keith suggested. He seemed to be warming up to the idea the more he thought about it.

“We could practice our Japanese.” Shiro smacked his hand on his knee to punctuate his sentence.

Keith grunted in excited agreement. “We _could.”_

Allura, who had paused her packing to watch the exchange, suddenly had an image fill her mind. She could practically imagine it now, so vividly. Keith, sauntering down the busy streets of Tokyo with everyone staring at him in horror. His ears flickering around and his yellow eyes drawing in everyone’s attention as he explored the stores. Keith greeting people with a friendly, “Konbanwa,” and a fanged smile.

She could already hear the screams of terror as people noticed him as he passed by. They would run away, scared out of their minds. What if the police were called on him while he was out doing something mundane, like getting something to eat? Would he be able to make any friends? Would he be able to find love? What about a job or an opportunity to do something he loves? No, of course not, because people could only ever see Keith for his exterior. Allura shuddered at just the thought of anyone harming Keith just because they didn’t understand him. Keith didn’t deserve that.

“Never mind,” she heard herself saying suddenly. Keith and Shiro both looked up to her from where they had been discussing all the things they could do in Japan. Surprise was painted over both of their faces, but Allura didn’t leave them in suspense for long. “I overreacted,” she stated simply. Then, she lugged the suitcase back to the closet, followed closely by all the shirts that she had ripped from Keith’s shelves. After putting everything back hastily, she hurried out of the room with a quick, “No one is going to believe what he says, anyway,” thrown over her shoulder for good measure.

She needed another cup of tea, she decided.


	3. Catch Yourself a Looker

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again!

The newspaper slammed onto the desk, fluttering some of the papers around the computer. The gal at the desk stared up from where she was typing on her computer. A suspicious look overtook her eyes as she carefully watched the man before her; Lotor.

Lotor tapped his finger into the newspaper rapidly, drawing the girl’s attention to the picture. There was a sign on her desk which read Cammie Ezor Leon, the same name that was printed at the bottom of the article. It hadn’t taken him long to find the office for the author of the article, but when he did, the first thing he did was parade himself right through the doors without any real warning. Judging by Ezor’s face, she wasn’t impressed.

“Look what you’ve done,” he hissed, threatening as possible.

Ezor glanced back down at the newspaper, then back up at Lotor. “Yes, I wrote that article. It was quite a piece, so thanks for that.” There was a smirk in her voice at the end, as though she found this entire situation funny. Lotor’s blood boiled, but he kept his face blank.

“You have _no idea_ what this story will do to me,” Lotor reiterated.

Ezor just shrugged and returned to her computer. “Not my problem,” she stated nonchalantly. “If you didn’t want people talking about it, maybe you shouldn’t have had a meltdown in the police station.” That time she really did laugh at the end, amused.

Lotor ground his teeth together and clenched his fist against the newspaper. “You made me out to be a delusional maniac!” he spat at her.

“Yeah,” she agreed as if it was obvious. “You were talking about a demon boy in the Shirogane mansion.” Her fingers continued to fly across the keyboard as she rapidly typed out whatever it was she was working on. Her pink ponytail swayed with every sporadic move of her head as she switched her focus around from the computer to the sheets of paper on her desk, and back again.

“I will ruin you,” Lotor threatened. “You have no idea what you’re messing with by putting this story out there like you did. You think the problem is my mental health? Well, you’re wrong.” By now, her focus had reluctantly returned back to Lotor, her hands still. “That beast is going to be revealed one way or another, and you’re going to finally realize what a fool you’ve been. Then, we will see who the delusional one is. Me for speaking the truth? Or you for believing you know anything at all! For believing that you report anything but petty gossip and lies that get you the attention you so desperately crave!” He was shouting, louder and louder the farther into his rant he got.

“Security!” Ezor called over his shoulder.

Lotor didn’t turn back, but he heard as the older woman stalked into the room to take him away. His eyes were pinned to Ezor, a crazed look looming within them. Just as the officer was about to put her hand on his shoulder, he shrugged her off, rolling his shoulder out of her grasp. He turned around and stared at her as well, all while exiting the office with quiet, civil grace. Once in the hallway, he shouted back, “He’s a demon! Just you wait and see!”

“Quiet down, pal,” the officer, whose name tag read Zethrid, told him. She shoved him a little to get him to keep moving toward the elevator, and he scowled at her.

“Whoa, hold on,” a new voice interrupted. Lotor and Zethrid both paused to stare at the woman who had just exited an adjoining office. “Demon boy?” she pondered.

Lotor immediately interjected himself, “It’s true! I saw him.”

Zethrid clicked her tongue behind him, just as disbelieving as the lot of them. “Sorry, Acxa, this lunatic was just leaving.” She made a move to urge him along again, but before Lotor could hiss at her, this new lady – Acxa – raised a hand.

“No, no,” she dazedly responded. “He’s with me. Sorry,” she offered Zethrid an apologetic smile, “I’ll keep him on a tighter leash next time.”

Zethrid looked surprised, but she didn’t do more than nod and head off back down the hall from where she had come.

Lotor didn’t even have much time to register what was going on before Acxa was gripping his elbow and lugging him down the hallway to the elevators once again. “Come with me,” she whispered at him, a very obvious warning in her tone. Rather than argue further, Lotor just followed the mysterious Acxa into the elevator. She never strayed her eyes from the door, not when she spoke, and not even when she jabbed her finger into the button for the lobby. And as the doors to the elevator slid shut, trapping them both inside, she ominously muttered, “I think we both want the same thing.”

 

◊ ◊ ◊

 

Keith stared down at the many photos of faces before him, overwhelmed. There were too many. All potential suitors, all willing to try for Keith’s hand in marriage, all blue-blooded. Keith had been staring at them for so long that their faces were beginning to melt together. He could hear Allura at the other end of the table, reading off stats on each new person, but he couldn’t bring himself to pay attention. It didn’t matter, not when he knew they wouldn’t stay. Keith didn’t even want to be apart of this decision-making process, even if it did regard his own future. Yet there he was, sat around the dining room table with Shiro, Allura, and Coran.

Keith didn’t even know that there were that many people who he hadn’t seen through the one-way glass of his room yet. They’d been doing this for years, how were there still more people who they hadn’t welcomed in, only to drag them back inside, kicking and screaming? Keith sighed. This was such a waste of time, but, apparently, he was the only one who thought that.

Picking up the photo of a young woman in a pink dress, Keith ran his fingernail along the edge. He wasn’t really studying the picture so much as he was attempting to look engaged. His ears were giving him away, though, as they folded back, flattened against his head with a dejected flop.

“We could have them meet online?” Coran suggested from his seat next to Keith.

Keith tilted his head to watch Allura out of the corner of his eye as she pondered the idea.

Her eyes were squinted and her face was drawn up in a mildly unapproving expression. “Is that really the most professional way to go about it?” she asked, not unkindly.

Coran’s moustache twitched and he glanced up to the ceiling thoughtfully. “I suppose not.”

Shiro piped up then, “What if we doubled the dowry?”

Allura and Coran looked to be pondering it, humming in agreement as they thought it over. Keith watched them all for a moment, then he glanced back to the picture of the lady in his hands. The edge was curling an bending where he had been running it along the seam of his nail. Keith sighed. He slapped the picture back down onto the table and loudly said, “You could triple it, Shiro, they’re still going to run away!” Keith slumped down into his chair with a heavy sigh.

“Keith, don’t think like that!” Allura chastised, frowning across the table at him.

Coran smiled encouragingly at Keith, “Keep your head up, young one. There’s someone out there for everyone!”

“Everyone but me,” Keith grumbled. He rolled his eyes, but no one could tell since his eyes were a solid yellow anyway.

“C’mon, Keith,” Shiro urged. “You’ll never get anywhere with that attitude.” The way he said it wasn’t malicious or frustrated, only patient. He knew that Keith wasn’t enjoying looking through all the photos or scheming up new ways to trick people into liking him, but he was still trying to give him a push in that direction.

Keith wasn’t in the mood though. He rarely was. “Yeah, my attitude is clearly the problem,” he moodily muttered. His chair scraped noisily against the kitchen flooring, making Shiro wince. Keith pushed himself up and out of the chair, just trying to get away from the overwhelming number of pictures that he had been presented with.

As he passed through the kitchen to get to the staircase for his room, Keith paused. Right next to the back door of the house, there was a mirror. Normally, Keith didn’t pay it any mind, not with how quickly and efficiently he moved around the house. Keith could have a very one-track mind sometimes. This time, however, his reflection seemed to jump out at him more than usual. And so, he stopped.

With slow, hesitant steps, Keith approached the mirror. His eyebrows were drawn, making his face appear even more aggressive as it stared back at him. Even when he wasn’t meaning to, it seemed he was always scowling. His golden eyes stared back at him, unreadable. Keith couldn’t detect a trace of emotion behind his own inhuman eyes, even as he could feel them welling up within him. The ears on his head slicked themselves along his head again as the displeasure of seeing his own reflection rolled sickeningly through his stomach. The blotches of purple along his jaw, neck, and cheek looked like unhealed bruises, like paint that hadn’t been washed off, and it made Keith’s skin feel itchy to look at them for too long.

Keith didn’t own any mirrors. There were mirrors all over the house since they were a common décor item, but Keith didn’t own one. Aside from the one-way glass that acted as a window from his room into the annex, there were no mirrors, and that one didn’t even count since he couldn’t see himself. Even the mirror in his bathroom was covered by countless strips of duct tape. Keith had trouble reminding himself that he looked the way he did, even though no one else in the house experienced the same trouble. It was just easier hearing it than having to see it.

As he glared at his own face in the mirror, Keith shifted his upper lip out of the way. His fangs gleamed prominently at the forefront of his mouth, drawing attention to themselves without anyone’s help. Were they visible when he spoke, when he ate, when he yawned? Keith hoped not. Cautiously, as if his own likeness might bite his hand off, Keith lifted a delicate finger to tap at the fang. He smoothed it along the slick enamel, all the way down until he pressed the soft pad of his finger into the point. It didn’t hurt, but they were sharp enough that Keith wasn’t willing to risk pressing any harder.

He removed his hand and lowered his lip. The ears on top of his head had decided to return to standing straight up on his head, slightly cocked to one side as if he were startled. Keith lifted both of his hands up and gingerly folded his ears down. He covered them up, burying them beneath his hands and his hair. For a moment, Keith let himself imagine what he would look like without them. When the curse was broken – If the curse was broken – would he have normal human ears? Would his cat ears disappear, leaving him not only deaf, but without the aesthetic of ears at all? Would that be so much worse?

What about his fangs? Would he have normal teeth, with normal canines like anyone else? His eyes, what colour were they really? The iris, that is. Would they be the same colour as the sickly yellow globs he used currently, or would they be another colour? A stunning blue, a piercing green, or a captivating brown, perhaps. Would the blotches go away too? Would they scar? Keith had so many questions.

Keith sighed and dropped his hands back to his sides.

“Oh, Keith…” a voice startled him out of his thoughts. Keith glanced up in the mirror, surprise written across his face. Shiro was staring at him through the reflection with a look of pitying sadness.

Keith frowned and huffed an impatient noise. “I know,” he drawled, not wanting to hear the same lecture again. He begrudgingly recited, “It’s not my face, it’s my great-great-great-grandfather’s face, and he’s not me, and I’m not him, and I’m not me…”

In the mirror, Shiro’s face brightened into an easy smile. He patted Keith on the shoulder with an air of familial love and said, “That’s it, Keith! Just think of the positives!” He gave Keith’s shoulder a squeeze before releasing him entirely.

Keith watched him go through the mirror for a moment, unable to stop the way his ears practically deflated against his head once more. Once he could no longer see or hear Shiro’s retreating form, his eyes flicked back to his own image. With another dejected sigh, Keith mumbled to no one in particular, “Right…” He moved away from the mirror, back towards the stairs which he had been aiming for initially. His footsteps felt heavy as he ascended the stairs.

 

◊ ◊ ◊

 

Acxa leaned back in the driver’s seat of her van, staring dazedly out the window. She heaved a sigh and blinked her weary eyes for a moment. Next to her, in the passenger’s seat, was the man who she had dragged with her out of the building after seeing the riot he was causing. They had to get the story out, but that was surely not the way to go. The man had introduced himself as Lotor, but all Acxa could think of him as was the blathering moron who was only going to ruin his name if he continued to yell about demons in public places, especially the place that literally delivered the news to the city.

It was a damn good thing she was there to help him though. They had been in Acxa’s van for a little over an hour, and in that time, they had become acquainted, and Lotor had told his entire encounter with the Kogane beast. Acxa wouldn’t let it show, but she had been on the edge of her seat listening to the story. How many times had she tried to get into that very building, just to catch a glimpse of the fabled cursed boy, only for people to be invited in willingly, while she could only watch? It was those legal contracts that kept the royals from revealing anything they had seen, those were the problem.

And yet, for the first time in all the years that Acxa had been working on this story, one of them got away without signing the contract. Not only that, but he was insane enough to want to tell the world about this. Most of the time, people just wanted to forget what they knew. This was the opportunity of a lifetime.

So, in order to gain Lotor’s trust and to prove she was just as committed to this case as he was, if not more, she told her own story.

She recounted all the steps she had taken, how many hours she had spent stalking the house, how many rouses she had used to get into the house. She told of the many glimpses she had caught of someone through the upper story window who didn’t appear to be the known family members; Takashi Shirogane, Allura Shirogane, and Coran Smythe. Who else could it have been but the monster? Except, every time, she was just a little too slow with her camera. The second she would set it up, the curtains would already be fluttering back into place, obscuring the inside of the house once again. Acxa just couldn’t catch a break.

“I put everything into that story, with nothing to show for it except this scar,” she huffed, dragging the high collar of her shirt down enough that the jagged and raised edges of the mark across her neck could be seen. She would never admit that it was from being beaten with a kitchen utensil after breaking into the house. Lotor didn’t need to know that. “That _thing_ still gives me nightmares.”

“You said you’ve never seen the beast,” Lotor pointed out, his eyebrows drawing together.

Acxa sighed, “I haven’t. I was talking about the lady of the house, Allura Shirogane. She is terrifying.”

Lotor hummed to acknowledge that he had heard her, then turned back to face the front of the car. They were parked outside in the parking lot of editorial building, mostly due to the fact that Lotor didn’t exactly want to immediately get into a van and be driven away without anyone knowing his whereabouts.

“We need to tell the public about this,” Lotor suddenly stated. His eyes were hardened and there was a deep-set resentment shining behind his eyes.

Acxa rolled her shoulders back and sat up properly. “For that to happen, we’re going to need some proof. Think you can get back in there?”

“I’m not sure they’ll let me in again. I’m not sure I even want to be near that thing, not for a second. You have no idea how repulsive and vile–”

Cutting him off, Acxa rolled her eyes, “I get it, okay? Can we focus? It would just be for one photo. You’re sure you won’t do it?” She stared at him seriously, making sure that he understood this wasn’t just something that they could pick and choose at. The entire plan was hinged on someone who could get inside and meet Keith.

Lotor thought about it for a moment, his eyebrows pinched together with the effort it took to think his answer over. “No, I’m certain it’s not possible.”

Acxa’s shoulders slumped and she fell back into her seat, a frustrated burst of air escaping her nose. Her failed attempts to get in were too obvious and expected, even when they yielded nothing. Lotor had already squandered his chance, and even if he were to get back in, there was always the gag that they were meaning to have him sign. To top is all off, Lotor was a prissy wimp. So once again, they were back to square one. They needed someone else.

“Alright,” Acxa articulated carefully. “That’s fine. We’ll just have to find someone who can get in there. We’ll get them on the list to meet Keith, and then we’ll have an in,” she planned out. Everything was slowly coming together in her head, even if it was a little bit hazy. She nodded to herself, keeping her eyes firmly on the plants outside the car.

“They only allow old money, blue-blood types. That’s part of the cure for the curse. And where would we find a blue-blood willing to aid us. They don’t need the money,” Lotor argued, “not with how well-off they are.”

Acxa smirked, “Then we’ll have to find a blue-blood that’s _not_ well-off.”

Lotor squinted at her with a curious sort of confusion. “Where would we find someone like that?”

His question went unanswered as Acxa started up the van and began to drive away, the new plan already solidifying itself in her head.


	4. A Little More Luck Than a Little Bit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now!! On with the chapter, who is ready for Lance!

Acxa smiled as she entered the door at the bottom of the stairs. This was her kind of place. Just the right amount of sleazy and desperate without it feeling too sorry for itself. Perfect. She stepped inside, the low heels of her boots pressing into the worn-out carpet. Her eyes were sharp and searching as she scanned the place. The tables around her were slightly obscured by the dimness of the lights, but she wasn’t perturbed by it. In fact, it was much easier on the eyes than the harsh outdoor light.

It smelled like booze, smoke, and something vaguely musty. That might have been the sorrows of the people who were down on their luck. As Acxa made her way to the scratched-up bar near the front where a man was collecting up some cups, she let herself really take in the place. Much like the people the bar attracted, the building itself had seen better days, that was for sure. There was no way someone bought the place the way it was. There were dozens of tables spread out around the open floor plan, each with multiple people seated at them. It was loud, but in a quiet kind of way. The type of noise that just sounded like a hum. Dozens of people all speaking in hushed whispers at once, but just enough that it built itself up to be deafening over the music.

From the nearest table, she could hear a gruff male voice, “Better luck next time, sweet cheeks.” The man laughed, a slight growl to the hefty chuckles. He reached into the centre of the table to scoop a large pile of poker chips to his side.

A woman who looked twenty years older than she probably was responded with a garbled, strained hiss, “You better be payin’ for my drink if you’re goin’ to be callin’ me that.” Her throat was absolutely raw from the number of cigarettes she had smoked, because it was clear that she had been. She leaned back in her chair and slapped her cards down onto the table with a huff of frustration.

The other man at the table didn’t speak a word, but he swiped his hands down his face, exhausted and vexed in his loss.

Acxa ignored them as she approached the bar. The bartender’s eye caught on her movement once she was close enough, and he turned to greet her. He had a pleasant and calm sort of aura about him, but nothing that didn’t fit in with the rest of the regular crowd all around them. It was as though he were one of them, but only for show. Acxa couldn’t help but feel she could trust the man just as much as she felt that she couldn’t. It was an odd feeling.

“Evening, ma’am,” the bartender greeted kindly. He set a few glasses down behind the bar once he was finished cleaning them. “What can I get for you?”

Acxa didn’t waste any time, immediately jumping into the reason that she had come to the place at all. “Yeah, I’m looking for a Lance McClain,” she stated. Right at that moment, there was a loud cheering from one of the nearer tables.

The bartender frowned. “Could you repeat that?” he asked, leaning a little bit closer to better hear her.

Acxa’s eyebrow twitched. “McClain. Lance McClain. Where is he? I need to speak with him,” she practically demanded, steeling her voice.

The man brightened and straightened up once again. “Lance!” he exclaimed. “Of course, no problem. Table number five.” He pointed to a table near the back.

Acxa followed his finger to a table of four people. A heavier man with a very round, bald head and glasses, a woman with a once-beautiful face, marred by fatigue and drugs, another lady with a younger set about her features who almost didn’t fit in with the others, and a tall, lanky guy with a patchy beard and shaggy hair. The last guy was just putting on his bomber jacket and pulling a cigarette out of his pocket as he headed for the back exit to the bar.

“Looks like he’s just leaving,” the bartender commented.

Acxa quickly thanked the bartender and gave him a curt nod in goodbye before speed-walking through the crowds of poker players. She had to catch that man, that Lance McClain. She shuffled past a woman who was just standing, nearly slamming into her completely. Acxa barely paused to call out an apology, she just kept pushing toward the back. Lance’s feet were disappearing out of view as he ascended the stairs with minute hops.

Finally, Acxa broke through the maze of people and into the open stairwell. “Hey, guy,” she called out, her tone low, commanding attention.

Lance paused at the top of the stairs, his feet slowly coming to a halt. He glanced back down the stairs with a raised eyebrow, his shoulders hiked up in a defensive sort of pose. “Do I know you?” he asked.

Acxa stepped up a couple more stairs, closing the distance between her and her target. “No, you don’t, but I know you,” she answered ominously.

This Lance guy turned around fully, smirking and letting his eyelids droop into a lazy sort of gaze. He hummed, “Well, I’d like to know you too, babe.” His eyebrows wiggled suggestively on his forehead.

Acxa instantly cringed, unable to hold herself back in time. “Right,” she spat dryly. “You see, I’ve been doing my homework on you.”

Lance immediately dropped the sleazy pick-up artist act, his eyebrows raising in curiosity as he carefully listened. His hands were shoved deep in his pockets and his hip was cocked out to the side in a patient stance. He didn’t speak though, allowing Acxa to continue.

“It seems that in only a couple years, you’ve managed to gamble away the fortune your family spent generations building. That’s quite the feat, Lance McClain, I have to say.”

Lance’s face brightened up and his eyes coloured over with mirth. He laughed, his chest puffing out and his head falling back a little. Then, without another word, he turned back around and began to wander up the steps to the exit again.

Acxa placed her foot firmly on the next step up, not wanting her target to get away. She needed this guy for her plan to work. “If you hear me out, I’ll make it worth your while,” she propositioned.

Lance tossed a wink over his shoulder, never ceasing in climbing the stairs. “I think you’ve got the wrong guy, beautiful,” he chuckled.

“Five thousand dollars worth your while,” Acxa clarified.

Lance halted completely. One of his feet was halfway raised to meet the next step, but he slowly lowered it back down. There was a solid moment of silence with Acxa just staring at Lance’s tensed back, holding her breath as she waited for the answer. The noises from the poker tables in the room behind her echoed around in her head, threatening to pull her back in.

Eventually, Lance glanced back over his shoulder again, a more serious and intrigued look on his face this time. He turned, meandering down the steps carefully to meet Acxa near the middle. “I guess I can spare a minute,” he answered quietly. The humour was no longer in his expression, but it was in Acxa’s as her lip twitched up.

They had much to prepare before the next round of royals were let in to meet Keith, but this guy was going to have to do.

 

◊ ◊ ◊

 

Lance hadn’t been to a lot of fancy places in his time. He was more one to spend time at the bar or in a casino, wasting the little money he did have on pathetic attempts to get more money. Lance wasn’t even sure what fancy meant sometimes. Acxa and Lotor, the weird slinks from the van, had asked him to come wearing a suit. So, Lance did, because they were the ones with the money, and if this plan of their required a suit, then so be it. Apparently, they weren’t impressed with Lance’s fanciest suit, because they had asked him why he was so casual. In short, Lance didn’t understand ‘fancy.’

Even still, there was nothing that could have prepared him for walking into the Shirogane mansion. It was enormous and decorated with things that Lance was hesitant to even stand too close to, for fear of his awkward, money-less aura leaking off onto them. If someone had told Lance that the place was built from solid gold bars, he wouldn’t have even questioned it. Lance felt poorer than he ever had in his life as he stepped in through the hall.

Lance glanced down at his shoes, suddenly self conscious about the way he was dressed. It hadn’t mattered before. Lance was there for the money, he had come in a suit, he was prepared to get it all over with and leave, five thousand dollars richer, but being in the foyer that held vases worth more than Lance’s entire life savings, he felt horribly out of place and nervous.

With a deep breath, Lance replayed the plan in his head all over again. He would greet the owners of the house, the Shirogane’s, he would tell him his name, he would enter into another room that had been described to him by Lotor as ‘quaint,’ and he would meet this so-called Keith. After seeing Keith, Lance would lift his right arm into the air, thus activating the automated mechanism in his coat that would take a picture. With that picture, he would be allowed to leave, and he would hand it over to Acxa and Lotor in exchange for the five grand. That was that. Nothing else, just a quick snapshot and he was out of there. As long as no one caught him, it was a simple mission.

Lance rolled his shoulders, feeling the camera device in his jacket shift as he moved. He just had to remember to keep his right arm down. Lance couldn’t help but move his body a lot though, so he was sure he was going to forget all about the arm lifting rule within five minutes. So, Lance tugged at the collar of his jacket, tightening it up a bit. Then, after slapping on his most charming smile, he wandered through the foyer in the direction of the voices.

Rounding the corner, he found the rest of the people who he was told would be here. A tall man with a white undercut and a noticeable scar across his nose was pointing to a piece of paper on a clipboard as he showed a young woman where she was to sign her name. Lance watched as she grabbed the pen from the top and scribbled her signature down.

“Thank you,” the man paused to glance at the place she had signed, “Nyma Hunt. Please line up over there.” The man smiled gently. Lance could instantly name him, not only due to his demeanor, but also because Lotor had drilled it into his head how important it was that he act like a good suitor so they would allow him in to meet Keith. This was Takashi Shirogane.

The man who was in front of Lance stepped forward then, next in line. “What is this for?” he asked.

Mr. Shirogane handed him a clipboard with the same sheet on it and tapped the space at the bottom to indicate where the man would sign. “Just your standard gag,” he casually stated. “You don’t talk, and we don’t talk.”

“How ugly is he…?” the other man in the suit muttered as he grabbed the pen and reluctantly signed.

With a tight smile, Mr. Shirogane snatched the clipboard away from him and forced out, “Please wait in line, Rolo Vox.”

As far as Lance could tell, Keith was cursed. He was cursed and the only way he could be freed was through marriage with someone who was a blue-blood like him. That was what he had been told by Acxa and Lotor. Although the description was vague, what he understood from Lotor was that Keith was a hideous monster. He insisted that the guy was hard to even look at, unbearably demonic. Lance never fancied himself as one who scared easily, but he was prepared for horror.

Just as Lance was getting nervous with how long he had been standing there, waiting, a woman approached him. Her long, flowing hair trailed out behind her like the train of a veil, matching perfectly with her elegantly pink dress. She smiled at him warmly, then glanced down to the sheet of paper in her hand. “Hello, name?”

Lance paused for a moment, his mind blanking. Then something clicked. This must be Allura Shirogane, the lady of the house. And she was standing there, waiting for him to give her his name. He couldn’t even remember what he was supposed to say anymore. He was already fucking up his chance at five thousand dollars, fuck.

“Uh…” he stuttered. “Lance… McClain. The agency sent me, for the… suitor thing…” Lance tried to hide the visible cringe that was working its way over his features at the idiocy of the words he had just sputtered out. Mrs. Shirogane stared at him suspiciously for a moment, seemingly judging him already. Lance knew he wasn’t a fancy person, but to be spotted so quickly was a real danger.

“Alright…” she agreed, still unsure.

Lance, purely on instinct, raised his hand to the back of his neck to lace his fingers through some of the longer strands in his hair, a nervous gesture. He heard the clicking of a camera and his eyes widened. He knew he would fuck up, but already? Lance immediately lowered his arm before Mrs. Shirogane noticed that he had just mistakenly taken a picture of her with the secret camera that was hidden in his jacket.

“Shit,” Lance hissed, glaring at his arm.

Mrs. Shirogane’s head whipped up to stare at him, appalled and affronted. “Excuse me?!” she demanded, her eyebrows drawn together.

Lance swallowed nervously. What would a fancy person do? “Um, shit, ma’am,” he tried again. Then with a nod, he hurried away past Mr. Shirogane who had scarcely noticed his arrival.

Once he was following along the path that the orange-moustached man nearby had led the rest of the group down moments ago, he felt a lot safer. There was no way he was facing Mrs. Shirogane again after that. He quickly dared a look over his shoulder to see Mrs. Shirogane whispering about something with her husband. They both glanced over to him and he accidentally made eye contact with Mr. Shirogane. Oh, boy. This was off to a bad start already. Lance sank back behind a corner and hurried along to the closed door near the end of the hallway where the rest of the group had gone.

He turned the handle and pushed the door in gently, not wishing to draw anymore attention to himself. All around him, there were men and women in suits and gowns of all types. They were all stunning, and much fancier than Lance had expected. Of course, they were though, look at the house they were in. When he had been told his suit wasn’t high-end enough, it wasn’t a joke. Some of these people looked like models for magazines that Lance wouldn’t even be able to buy in the commoner places he went to.

Lance tried to softly shut the door behind him, but he only succeeded in slamming it. Everyone instantly halted their conversations to stare hard at him. Lance swallowed thickly, bowed his head in an apology, and then shuffled his way into the room with the desire to evaporate right then blaring at the forefront of his mind.

They all continued to watch him, but it was in a discrete way, as though they didn’t want him to know they were looking, but he could feel their eyes. They knew he was out of place. Maybe it was his suit, maybe it was his demeanor, maybe it was his hair, maybe it was the way he shoved his hands in his pockets and was sweating bullets. Whatever it was, they could tell he wasn’t one of them and he was dying. This was supposed to be an easy five thousand.

Rather than focus on that, Lance forced himself to consider the room. The room Lotor had described as ‘quaint.’ Quaint, his ass. This room, although smaller than anything Lance had been in thus far, was still bigger than Lance’s own kitchen and living room combined. There was a mahogany bookshelf along two of the walls with sliding glass doors keeping the books locked in, a very subtle suggestion that one look, but refrain from touching. Lance could see little ceramic decorations of swans on the inside of the shelf, decorating the empty slots, not that there were a lot of them. In the centre of the room, a couch. Once again, it was nothing like the musty, old sofa that Lance had, this one was a chesterfield. At least, Lance assumed it was. He wasn’t exactly sure what a chesterfield looked like, but it was the most expensive piece of furniture that he knew about, so it was a guess, really. Also of note, were the piano in the corner, the coffee table that seemed to match itself with the bookshelves, and the fireplace with the mirror above it. As much as Lance tried not to notice the way more than half of the other suitors in the room migrated toward the mirror to double check their appearance, it was difficult not to.

Perfectly content to stay in the corner, Lance investigated the piano behind the couch, no longer interested in what the rich were up to. He smoothed his hand along the glossy finish, sighing at the feeling that filled his chest. He could almost see the keys through the cover and he wanted desperately to open it up, if only for something to do, but he remained still, just staring at it. His hand trailed up, feeling along the frame. Until, finally, Lance’s arm went a little too high, and suddenly there was another click of a camera, then a grating noise.

Instantly, Lance dropped to the ground. The clicks weren’t that loud, but to Lance, they were deafening. This was a stealth mission. Lance opened his jacket as best he could while being curled up behind the couch and investigated the camera. His breathing was panicked. He hoped no one noticed him on the floor, oh god, how would he explain this? The camera was jammed, having caught on a piece of his suit at some point. Lance struggled to fix it, hardly noticing as a section of the bookshelf opened outwards like a door on the other side of the couch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I sobbed for at least ten minutes after seeing that art though, like,,,,, did y'all look at it?????  
> Edit: Art has been moved to chapter nine


	5. I'm a Little Much for Everyone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All my chapter titles are based on songs lyrics and I'm not sure if y'all actually wanna know what those songs are or not? I was just thinking that I haven't been doing that, but I should? I don't know.

Keith sat curled up in the cubbyhole of his room, watching through the one-way glass as all the suitors that Allura and Shiro had collected milled about. Most of them were standing around the mirror, glancing at it periodically. It made Keith uncomfortable, as if they could see right through the glass to him. Even though he knew they were all just checking themselves out and pruning, it still made him shuffle his legs a little bit closer in on himself every time their eyes dragged a little bit too close to Keith’s. Some of them were sitting on the couch, chatting amongst themselves in what seemed to be a very condescending conversation if their eyebrows were anything to go by. Keith had turned off the microphone and the speaker so that he didn’t have to listen to them and they wouldn’t be able to hear the heavy sighs that kept escaping him.

Normally, they were never all in the same room at one time. If there were a number of suitors, Allura would line them all up for different days. And if there was a complication that meant they’d need to overlap the visits, then each suitor was ushered in one at a time. Not this time. This time, upon Keith’s request, they had all been forced into the annexe together on the same day. It wasted less time this way. Keith was tired of wasting time.

Keith’s fingers tangled themselves into the chain of paper swans that he had made some time ago. His fingernails caught on the string, dragging it outwards and digging in the flesh of his fingers. He absently winded it around his left ring finger, slowly pulling it tighter and tighter, watching as his skin turned purple. The pulse that throbbed in his finger grew more and more intense, but Keith just stared at it. He briefly wondered how long he would have to cut the circulation off before it would be past saving. He wondered if he needed that finger if no one was ever going to marry him.

Suddenly, at the other end of his room, the door opened, causing Keith’s ears to whip around. “Keith!” Allura called out. “That’s all of them.”

Keith lolled his head back to peak at her over his shoulder, some of his vision obscured by the long, black bangs that dangled over his face like a shield. “That’s all of them?” he asked. He wanted to clarify that this was the entirety of the group that was going to be coming today. His eyes flicked back to the glass when he asked, not that Allura would have been able to tell.

Allura approached Keith, keeping her eyes on the annexe in the other room. “Yes, they’re all there.”

Keith nodded and turned back to the mirror in front of him. “Perfect.”

Resting a hand on her hip, Allura canted her hip to the side. She raised an eyebrow at Keith. At least, Keith assumed she had. The air shifted in the way it did when Allura disapproved of his choices. Allura just had that kind of presence. “Why you would put them all in a room together instead of speaking to them each personally is beyond me…”

Keith’s ears twitched involuntarily at the judgemental tone, even as he tried to control them. “This’ll work,” Keith assured her. He was already untangling his legs from where they had become moulded to his chest. The swan chain was still loosely wound around his finger. He yanked it off and tossed it back into the cubbyhole. With a quick stretch to pop his spine into place, he drily said, “Trust me.”

Allura watched on in confusion as Keith strolled down the small set of stairs next to the cubbyhole. He grabbed the handle of the secret bookshelf door, and with a deep breath to steady himself, then he ripped the door open. Behind him, Allura squawked, but he ignored her in favour of marching directly into the room filled with men and women.

“Hey, what’s up?” he announced, a defiant hand on his hip. “I’m Keith, and you must be?”

There was a moment where all was calm and silent, everyone just staring at Keith with widened and horrified eyes. Then, all at once, the room erupted into commotion. Everyone was instantly racing for the door. One man leaped right over the coffee table in his haste to escape. Another man scrambled over the back of the couch, nearly taking a woman out in his leap. A lady stood stock still, just staring at him, shaking in her dress with fear, until a man shoved her, kickstarting her flight response. Someone was screaming, although Keith couldn’t tell who, he was already too busy sighing again and turning back to the bookshelf door.

“Going, that’s what I thought,” he answered himself with a low, angry grunt.

He slammed the bookshelf door behind him as he entered his room again. It clicked soundly, locking itself so no one on the other side would be able to get in. Keith kept his face low, anger and frustration rolling off of him in waves. There were so many layers of rage built up in Keith’s mind that he almost couldn’t feel the pain and longing that stung at his heart relentlessly. His ears were flat against his head, giving away all the emotions that he wouldn’t have been able to express otherwise.

He could hear Allura calling out to him, but he pushed past her as fast as he could. “Keith!” Allura shouted, but Keith didn’t turn around or meet her eye.

Keith stomped across his bedroom and to the door. He rushed down the stairs, his legs carrying him as his fists clenched and his teeth grit. Allura was following behind him, her heels clacking against the stairs as she tried to move as fast as she could. Keith didn’t give her a chance to catch up as he leaped off the last step and immediately marched into the kitchen.

“Keith!” Allura demanded again from the stairs.

With an annoyed click of his tongue, Keith pulled the cupboards open. He rummaged around until his hand landed on the box of cookies. His ears perked up for the first time since leaving the annexe. Keith practically ripped the box apart in his rush to get the little sandwich out of the wrapper. It was sealed in a plastic wrapping, but Keith made quick work of getting that off.

Just as he was about to take a bite to calm himself down and drown his sorrows, Allura interrupted him. “How could you do that?!” she yelled, staring at Keith wide-eyed and furious.

Keith rolled his eyes – not that she could tell – and groaned. “I was just speeding things up, Allura!” he argued. Finally, he allowed his sharp teeth to sink into the soft bread of the cookie in his hand.

“You weren’t speeding things up, you were ruining your chances!” she reprimanded.

Keith spoke around bites of his food, “I didn’t have a chance! They didn’t give me a chance! All I did was introduce myself and they all ran. All of them.” He swallowed the cookie piece.

“You _scared_ them!” Allura told him angrily.

“I didn’t do anything!” Keith stubbornly insisted. He crossed his arms as best he could while keeping his cookie close to his face.

Allura glared. “You know what I mean, Keith, don’t act so foolish,” she threatened.

Keith wasn’t having it, still wearing his apathetic and tough exterior like a crown. “I just saved us from a waste of time. You’re welcome. Now, I’m going to eat this Cowtown in peace,” Keith asserted, taking another bite.

“So, that’s what you’re going to do after all that?! Just eat everything in the house and leave a big mess like you were raised by beasts?!” she gestured to the shredded box and the plastic wrapper that Keith had left behind on the counter, tracking crumbs everywhere.

Keith swallowed his cookie bite and stared at Allura. Deadpan, he responded, “Actually, I was _born_ a beast, so I’m allowed.” He took another bite.

“Stop it!” Allura hollered, her voice cracking. She whipped her hand out and smacked the cookie right out of Keith’s hands. Her eyes remained on him even while his eyes watched in horror as the cookie landed on the kitchen floor.

He turned to her then, his fists clenching at his sides again and his ears shooting back. “Why the fuck would you do that to my Cowtown?!” Keith bellowed, this time getting into her personal space.

Allura didn’t budge, glaring at him with just as much force. “Would you listen to yourself?! That’s not what’s important!”

“That was the last one!” Keith continued. He wasn’t sure if he was even angry about the cookie at all. Everything just seemed like it was all too much and Keith had to yell about something. The cookie seemed so much easier to get mad about than the actual situation at hand did.

Allura’s eyebrows pinched together in frustration. “Keith!”

“I’m going out to buy more!” Keith tried to push past her again, heading for the door that was down the hallway from the staircase. It led out into the lawn near the back of the house.

Keith had never even been outside the house before, so he wasn’t sure what to expect from the outside world. He had watched shows and he had heard stories, but that didn’t mean that Keith could actually understand it. Still, he wanted nothing more than to escape from this house, these people, this name, this face, this obligation he held. Keith just wanted to remember what the sun felt like and how the wind smelled. The door was always there, but Keith had never left before. He didn’t even know where he would get more Cowtowns.

Suddenly, there was a set of nails digging into his arms and forcing him back. They felt eerily similar to a handcuff. A ball and chain that kept him from the freedom that he so longed for. He pulled against them. No matter what Keith did, he was always the bad guy, always the monster. If someone didn’t like him, it was Keith’s fault. He didn’t try hard enough, he didn’t keep enough hidden away, he didn’t say the right thing. Why was it always Keith’s fault? It wasn’t about Cowtowns, it was about accepting that he was just unlovable, but he still had a life and he wanted to live it.

“If you want more, I’ll send Coran!” Allura shouted, still tugging him backwards.

“I can do things on my own, Allura!” Keith ripped his arm from her grip. They were both glaring at each other, eyes blazing.

“Pick me up some vodka while you’re out: I want to forget this day,” a new voice interrupted. They both turned to see Shiro lugging himself into the kitchen. He looked like he hadn’t slept in three days.

Keith harrumphed at Allura, taking Shiro’s request as permission to leave. He spun around, preparing to head to the door again. Once more, his path was blocked as Allura side-stepped right in front of him. He was prepared to yell at her again, but he paused upon seeing her face. There was a pleading, pained look glazing over her eyes. “Just one person, Keith,” she desperately whispered. “One human being. That’s all.”

Keith stared at her for a moment, his body feeling heavier and heavier the longer he met Allura’s eye. Finally, he sighed, “I can’t…”

Allura moved closer, resting her hands on his elbows. “There’s someone out there for you,” she assured. Sometimes, she turned into a real mom, although she never seemed to notice. Or perhaps she didn’t mind. It made Keith feel small and vulnerable.

“They always run, Allura,” Keith grit out. There were tears threatening to breach his eyelids, but he didn’t let them. “Why can’t you just accept that? For four years, they’ve run. Every, damn, time.” Keith willed every bit of emotion into his watering eyes as he stared hard at Allura. “Do you have any idea how that makes me feel?” his voice broke at the end, dropping off and wavering. Keith wanted to kick himself, just so he’d have a reason to cry.

Allura’s face was pained as she stared into Keith’s eyes. “Keith,” she said gently, pleadingly, as if she were a mother protecting her child. It calmed Keith down just as much as it made him hurt more. “I know it’s hard, but we have to keep trying.” The determination that sat behind her words drained Keith.

Pulling away, Keith shook his head angrily. “No, we don’t! There’s no one out there, Allura! No matter how much you want to believe it, no matter how many people we bring in here, there’s nobody!” he shouted, waving his hands around to illustrate his point.

“Please,” Allura gently called out.

Keith cut her off, “Look at me!”

“Keith, maybe you should–” Shiro began, raising a hand as he hesitantly approached his cousin.

 _“Look at me!”_ He was quickly becoming defeated, but his voice just got louder. “We’ve done everything! We’ve offered them everything! It just doesn’t fucking matter! If my own parents couldn’t even love me, how the hell do you expect someone to marry me?!” Keith heaved.

His face felt red from the force of his words and he was sure that he was growling a little bit, his fangs showing more and more with every scathing word he spat. It was easier to yell than to cry, and Keith could feel the familiar sting of his eyes that chased him every night. Keith didn’t want to keep playing this game; being rejected constantly, before even having a chance to say anything. Sometimes, he wondered if his personality could ever make up for the way he looked, or had he turned into a bitter and detestable person over the years too? Was he ugly through and through?

“Nobody is ever going to–!” he cut himself off mid sentence. He was shaking, his hands still in the air, tense and clenched. His chest rose and fell as he sucked in the air that seemed to have been stolen by his lungs.

Allura and Shiro were both watching him with wide eyes of concern, but he ignored them. Past Shiro’s shoulder, in the dining room, there was a television on the counter that was hooked up to a camera in the annexe. Keith knew that that was where Shiro, Allura, and Coran would sit to watch Keith’s meetings with possible suitors. It was probably where Shiro and Coran had been when Keith had marched into the room of bluebloods. All of that was normal, it was fine, Keith was used to it.

The thing that Keith wasn’t used to, however, was the tiny blip of movement on the screen. He squinted at it. His mouth still half open, his tongue, which was a well of words only moments prior, was suddenly dry and heavy in his mouth. Keith slowly wandered past the counter where Shiro was standing, his eyes glued to the motion on the screen.

“What…?” he breathed. There, clear as day through the monitor, was a man. He was meandering around the annexe, his hands in his pockets and a springy quality to the lazy steps he took, as if he was just moving to waste time. His eyes scanned the bookshelf, reading over all the titles. There was no urgency in the way he moved. The door to the room was still half open, so he wasn’t trapped.

The man had short, brown hair styled in a way that was shaggy and apathetical, yet completely suave and attractive, somehow. His suit fit him well, but it was much more casual than anything that anyone else had ever come in wearing. It matched his nonchalant disposition. Nothing about him seemed rushed or hurried, yet everything seemed purposeful. Keith couldn’t see his face, but he wondered what he looked like. What sort of face could belong to such an insouciant individual.

“Oh my god.” Allura’s voice pulled Keith out of his focus. She was standing next to him, peering over his shoulder at the screen.

Shiro appeared at his other side, leaning down a bit to also squint at the television, as if he, too, couldn’t believe what he was seeing. “No way…” Shiro mumbled.

Keith was stunned. He wasn’t sure how to react or what the appropriate response was. His mouth formed the words before he could think about them, “Did he see?”

Shiro straightened up, answering without ever removing his eyes from the man in the annexe, “He was in the room when you went in there, so he must have.” There was an air of confusion in his tone, as if he wasn’t sure if he even believed what he was saying.

Keith’s shoulders raised a little bit and his ears flicked backwards. “Who is that guy?” he spat out defensively.

“Does it matter?!” Allura frantically cried. Her hands clasped onto Keith’s hiked up shoulders and began guiding him out of the dining room and back through the kitchen. “You have to get in there!”

“What?” Keith asked dumbly as he tripped over his feet on the way to the stairs.

Allura was grinning so widely that Keith was worried her face would break in two. “Go! Before he leaves!” she instructed.

Shiro called back from the dining room. “Go quick, Keith!”

Fear flooded Keith and he tried to fight against Allura’s grip. “No, I can’t, I’m–”

“Go!” Allura hollered, shoving him at the staircase.

Keith regained his balance and glanced back at her. “I don’t…”

She wasn’t about to let him pass this opportunity up. “This is your chance! Impress him!”

He stared at her helplessly, the fear he was feeling visible on his face. “How…?” he meekly asked. This had never happened before. What was he supposed to do? Was there a protocol?

She shooed him with her hand. Keith’s eyes trailed carefully up the stairs, as if he were expecting his worst nightmare to be standing at the top. And technically, that wasn’t completely wrong. It was the threat of rejection. Again. Keith should have been used to it by now, but somehow, it was different when it was a person who wasn’t scared away by the way he looked. If he had seen. Had he seen? Keith swallowed thickly, then, with anxiety thrumming through his veins, he ascended.

For the first time in four years, Keith was going to go talk to someone who hadn’t run.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know y'all were super hyped about Lance and Keith finally meeting, but unfortunately it was a big false alarm. Sorry...? Next update, I swear on my own grave, it will be Lance and Keith's first official meeting.
> 
> Also, this weekend, I have no homework whatsoever! And that means I can finally, _finally_ start working on my next fic! I have so many ideas, so many paths I could choose from.


	6. I Was Enchanted to Meet You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who is ready for them to meet now? Because it's happening now. This is it. No more beating around the bush. Here we go!

Lance would admit that he was a little bit confused. One moment, he was in a room full of high-end, classy people, trying to pretend he was one of them, until his camera started freaking out. Next moment, he was on the floor, clutching his head and hoping to god that the stampede of people racing out the door wouldn’t trample him. And he was alone. He was all by himself in a room worth more than anything he would ever be able to make in his entire life. Was that it? When was Lance supposed to get the photo? His money was riding on that photo.

So, Lance decided to stay. Staying meant that there was a chance of getting the photo. Leaving meant no photo and no money. He glanced over the couch again, he checked out the mirror once more, he ran his hand along the wood of the piano. And still, there was nothing but silence. Perhaps they had forgotten that he existed at all. Maybe this was all a joke.

He glanced around the room again, a quick and suspicious action. It was still silent. There was still no one. He shuffled his way over to the bookshelf along the wall. It was just to check out the books. Just to see what they had for a selection. That was what he was telling himself. His hands were buried deep into his pockets, an attempt to keep his sticky fingers at bay. Even still, almost as if they had a mind of their own, Lance’s hand slithered out of his pocket and along the wooden shelf. It was nice, smooth. He pretended he was investigating the structure and the material. His eyes wandered the books.

How much would one of those be worth? It had to be a lot, right? What kind of fancy rich people wouldn’t have fancy rich books? Especially in a room that they used to herd together other fancy rich people. That was just common sense. Put the expensive books where they would be visible.

Lance’s hand snaked its way up the side of the shelf and across the glass covering. There was a small latch to one side that could easily be flipped, allowing access into the bookshelf.

No one would notice one missing book. What was one book to a bunch of millionaires? Nothing. They weren’t even reading it. For them, it was a decoration, a conversation piece. And they had tons of them. Not that Lance was actually going to read it, but it was more useful to him than it would have been to anyone in this house. It was fine.

He slid the glass covering out of the way, wincing as it squeaked audibly. He halted, listening. There was no one coming to get him or anything. He was being ridiculous by thinking like that. He reached inside the case and let his hand smooth across some of the spines. His hand stopped, almost of its own accord. Slowly, he pressed a finger into the top of one book in particular and slid it out of its spot. It came away easy, with only a small hiss as it swiped along the other books beside it. He pulled it out, carefully catching it. If he damaged it now, it wouldn’t be worth as much later. Once it was successfully in his hands and not on the shelf, he smiled to himself. With careful precision, he placed it in one of the inside jacket pockets. It fit snugly.

“You’re still here?” a sudden voice asked.

Lance squeaked, very nearly launching the book directly into the bookshelf. He spun around, eyes wide and heart in his throat. There was no one there. “Uh… yeah…” he awkwardly answered. He swallowed, trying to compose himself and pretend he wasn’t totally stealing from the bookshelf. His eyes darted around the room, confused.

“Did you see anything?” the disembodied voice asked. It was a huskier voice, a little bit gravelly, and with a hard edge to it, as though messing with the person who owned the voice could only bring about trouble. And it was coming from a speaker on the mantle of the fireplace, Lance realized.

With narrowed eyes, Lance asked a question back, “Did I see, what, exactly?”

There was an impatient huff from the speaker, and then a just as irascible, “So, you didn’t see anything?”

Lance huffed a laugh, very confused. He began to wander around the couch and closer to the speaker. “I didn’t?”

“Did you?” came the irritated reply.

“Did I, what…?” Lance smiled cheekily at the speaker, still trying to figure out what was going on.

“Stop fucking with me!” the angry man on the other end of the speaker raised his voice.

Lance raised an eyebrow. “What?” He tilted his head to the side to illustrate how lost he was in the entire conversation they were having. “I’m fucking with you now?”

“Why are you still here?” the man questioned. There was a hesitation bubbling behind his words that intrigued Lance.

“Still…?” Lance repeated.

There was a pause. “Why didn’t you leave?” His voice was softer this time, gentler, more guarded.

Lance stared at the speaker. “I’m sorry,” he awkwardly apologized. “I can just leave now.” He pointed back towards the door and stepped away from the speaker again.

Right as his heel hit the leg of the couch, halting him, so too did the words that came next, “Are you a fan of Samuel Holt?”

Lance’s eyebrows scrunched up. Samuel Holt. Lance had no idea what he was talking about. “Who…?” he uttered.

The voice became tinged with a certain edge to it again. “Oh, sorry, I just assumed that you would have been a fan if you’re stealing his book from my shelf.”

The silence that followed was accusatory and heavy. Lance swallowed thickly and nodded robotically. He let out a shaky laugh. “You… Uh… You saw that, huh…?”

A hum emanated from the little amp on the mantle.

“Well,” Lance began, removing the book from his jacket now that he was caught. “Yeah, I am a fan. It’s a great book,” he glanced at the cover. “I’m a huge fan of _The Prisoner,”_ Lance admitted as he stared at the simple, maroon cover of the book for the first time ever in his life. He was lying out his ass but he didn’t need to go to jail for stealing.

“You’ve read _The Prisoner?”_ the voice asked, unimpressed and disbelieving.

Lance wasn’t about to go back on his lie now. He glanced up from the book to look to the speaker again. “Yeah, I have,” he asserted. Lance offered a friendly and charming smile to the speaker.

“That’s funny,” the voice replied, not a hint of humour in his voice, “I thought that was the only surviving copy.”

Lance’s smile melted away, but he quickly plastered it back on, although it was strained. “Well, you know… I have always been meaning to read it, but the bookstores and libraries were always out. That explains why…”

“Is that how it is?” he asked. Lance could hear the reproach in his tone.

“Yeah…” Lance glanced down at the book again, knowing he was cornered. “Then, I saw that it was a first edition… and I thought it might be worth something…”

Lance was sure that right as he said that, a bunch of police officers would burst through the door and arrest him for trying to rob the place. Whoever was behind the voice would instantly waltz into the room with a smug smile on their face – a face that Lance couldn’t imagine – and he would be thrown in jail, all for trying to make a quick buck.

But none of that happened. Instead, the person calmed and exhaled his words, “Ah, so you are a thief.”

It wasn’t a question, but Lance took it as one. “Yeah… I was… stealing it…” His fists clenched in the book, suddenly feeling as though it weighed more than he did and any moment he would be dragged down to the floor with the mass of his shame. Lance shifted his feet, still wondering if this was a tactic to get him to stay so that he could be arrested.

“You’re about the money, then?” the speaker projected. It was an honest and interested question, as though they were talking about the weather.

Lance huffed out a laugh, self-deprecating in nature. “I’m all about the money,” he acknowledged. His feet began to carry him around the room as they had before, his nervous energy growing with every word that was passed between him and the speaker man. “Although, I don’t think the money is really all that into me.”

“Maybe the money just isn’t interested,” the voice suggested.

“Nah,” Lance drawled. “She’ll come around. She was totally checking me out, I know it.” He flipped through the book absently, smiling to himself as he waited for the reply.

Another snort translated through the speaker. “I think the money gave you a fake number,” he joked back.

“Whoa, no! She wouldn’t do that to me!” Lance argued, a smile quirking his lip.

The sound in the speaker suddenly got a little bit louder, even as the man’s voice dropped in volume, as if he had moved closer to the mic. “There are over two thousand books in that room. Three hundred twenty-six of them are first editions. Of those, three hundred are worth over $50,000. A dozen or so are worth over $25,000.” Lance listened carefully, his mouth hanging open an inch and his eyes fixated on the speaker. “But there’s only one book in there that’s worth less than $100,” the man revealed, a conspiratorial tone to his voice.

Lance’s eyes fell heavily to the book in his hands. _The Prisoner,_ by Samuel Holt. First edition. “Only one of them, huh?” he choked out. There was a grim smile painted over his face. He felt that somehow, the entire world had managed to play one giant practical joke on him by making the one book he chose be the least valuable one.

“A forgotten novel, written by a nobody, who never amounted to anything,” the cynicism in the words was stated so matter-of-factly.

Lance glanced up to the speaker. “Is that a fact…?” he rhetorically muttered. “Under a hundred?”

“Under a hundred,” he confirmed. “Now, if that’s all, I really have more important things to be doing, so–”

“But it’s still your favourite,” Lance interrupted.

There was a tense silence once again. Lance stared at the speaker. No one responded. His fingers tensed around the open book in his hands as he waited. He could hear how thrown off the other man was just by Lance’s words. Lance smiled, knowing that he had found an upper hand.

“… What?” the man breathed, farther away from the mic than before.

“I said, it’s your favourite, even if it is under a hundred,” Lance dared. He stepped closer to the speaker again, more purposeful this time.

The man seemed to falter at Lance’s brave words. At least, that was what Lance got through the little amp. “There’s no way you would be able to know what book my favourite is,” he decided on, his voice more dangerous than before.

Lance smirked and dropped his own voice to match, “Then why would you keep a worthless book on a shelf with priceless classics?”

Once more, there was a silence. Lance just stared at the little box on the mantle, waiting. He knew this guy was watching him, but he didn’t know from where. Still, his eyes were dragged up from the speaker to the mirror. Something in his mind felt compelled.

Then, after what felt like ages, he answered in a hard, no-nonsense voice, “Top shelf, third from the left. _Moby Dick._ It’s a first edition. But wait until I’m gone, or they’ll see you. Then we’ll both get shit.”

Lance frantically looked from the mirror to the shelf, then back to the speaker. “They? What?” There was no response. “Who will see me? Mysterious voice? I don’t even know your name!” Lance waited another few seconds, but nothing came of it. He stared hard at the speaker. Nothing. With a sigh, Lance trudged back to the bookshelf and placed _The Prisoner_ back on the shelf. Then, he followed the instructions, pulling _Moby Dick_ off the shelf and shoving it into his pocket. The entire time, he was careful to keep his right arm down and only use the left one, lest he take a picture of the bookshelf.

He wandered out the door and into the hallway, the entire time keeping his attention on the room at his back. Once he was outside the room, he paused for a moment. Without warning, he leaped back into the room, his finger pointed righteously and his expression triumphant. “Gotcha!” he hollered. There was still no one there. “No?” Lance asked, lowering his hand and standing up straight. “Alright…” He turned to the hallway again.

“Will you be back tomorrow?” the voice asked suddenly, almost urgently before Lance was completely out of earshot.

Lance scrambled into the room. Excitement radiated off him. “I knew it! I knew you were still there!” He smiled brightly at the speaker. “You’re Keith Kogane,” he realized suddenly. This was the guy he was supposed to get a picture of.

“I am,” he answered simply.

Lance laughed, stunned. “My name is Lance… McClain.”

“Charmed,” the voice – Keith – replied, an amused lilt at the end of his tone.

Lance smiled again. Then, with a firm nod of the head, he asserted, “Yeah. I will be back tomorrow.” And with that, Lance spun on his heel and headed for the entrance to the building feeling lighter than he had in awhile.

Until he remembered he was supposed to have a picture. At least he still had that book, though.

 

◊ ◊ ◊

 

“He’ll be back tomorrow…” Allura breathed. She stared at the monitor with wide, disbelieving eyes. Suddenly, she turned to Shiro and Coran next to her, who were both just as shocked as she was.

Shiro stood from the table, a smile quickly overtaking his face. He could hardly believe that someone was willing to come back. How many people had come in through those doors in the annexe and had spit a bunch of bullshit out at Keith? How many of them just said what they had thought Keith wanted to hear? And all of it was a waste anyways since it always ended in Keith revealing himself and scaring the person away. Keith always claimed that he was trying his hardest or that he didn’t care, but Shiro suspected it had something to do with their personality too. Keith had never not gone out there. Something about this boy was different. Maybe because he stayed, maybe because he wasn’t spitting out what he thought Keith wanted to hear, maybe it was just a feeling that Keith got, but whatever the case, Keith had chosen not to show himself this one time. And the boy was going to come back. Keith cared about this one.

Through the screen, Shiro could see as the door in the bookshelf was hesitantly pushed outwards. Out stepped Keith, hesitant in his movements as he crept into the annexe. He cautiously made his way over to the bookshelf by the piano, on the other wall. The glass was still open. He reached up and removed one of the smaller books from the shelf with precision someone could only have when dealing with their favourite book. Shiro could just barely make out the frown on his face as he opened the cover gently.

Allura was excitedly chatting with Coran about everything this could mean for Keith and for the curse, so Shiro decided he wouldn’t bother them. Keith needed support in this time too. Without waiting around, Shiro hurried along through the house and up the stairs to the hallway at the top. After peaking into the room and seeing that Keith was still staring at his book, a frown engraved on his face, Shiro entered silently.

“Is everything alright?” Shiro asked as he stepped inside.

Keith whipped his head up, not having heard Shiro enter. He ducked his head again to the book. “Yeah…” he answered.

Shiro nodded, not wanting to push him. “You didn’t show him?” Shiro asked, as if it was a question, as if he hadn’t been sitting at the table with Allura and Coran, watching the entire thing.

Keith shrugged one shoulder, still staring at the book in his hands. “Allura would’ve gotten upset again,” he stated.

Shiro let a smile creep onto his features. Tilting his head down a bit, he managed to quickly catch Keith’s eye. “That’s never stopped you before.”

His eyebrows furrowed in response, irritated by Shiro’s inability to leave his big fat nose out of something. “Look at this,” Keith suddenly said, pointing down at his book. There was a small sentence of chicken-scratch writing penned in with a marker. ‘Belongs to Keith!!! Do not touch!!!’ it read. Shiro snorted at the little message. Keith didn’t seem so amused. “I thought he just knew it was my favourite,” Keith admitted, trying his best to sound like he had bested Lance, but only serving to make himself sound disappointed.

Shiro slapped a hand onto his shoulder and lightly shook. “Out of two thousand books that aren’t your favourite, he still managed to try stealing the one that is, though,” he suggested.

And even though Keith didn’t lift his head, Shiro could still see a smile tugging along his face against his will.

 

◊ ◊ ◊

 

“He sure is taking his time,” Lotor mumbled.

Acxa rolled her eyes over to stare at him. He had been periodically muttering things about how long Lance was taking since they had first sent him in there. She was tired of hearing it. At first, she just thought that Lotor was being whiny and impatient. Now, though, she knew that Lotor was just being whiny and impatient. Even if it had seemed like a long time since the gathering had started, it felt even longer with Lotor narrating it.

Suddenly, before Acxa could make a snarky comment of some sort, there was a banging on the side of the van. Acxa sat up in her seat frantically. She shared a look with Lotor in which they both silently agreed that it had to be Lance. Acxa shuffled out of the seat and hurried along to the back of the van. Lotor was right behind her. She settled down by the edge and popped the door.

Upon opening it, she could see as Lance stepped back to avoid being hit. Lotor daintily leaped onto the pavement beside Lance, staring at him down his nose as he always did. Acxa just kicked her legs out to better sit on the edge of the van, rolling her eyes at Lotor’s behaviour as she did.

Lance was already undoing the camera device from the inside of his jacket to return it as Acxa asked, “How did it go?”

“I didn’t get it,” Lance curtly replied, an irritated bite to his words. He ripped the camera out the rest of the way, very nearly damaging the only suit jacket that Acxa suspected he owned.

“What do you mean you didn’t get it?” Lotor spat, inserting himself into Lance’s personal space again. Lance backed away with a furrow his eyebrows. “Half the people in this city have seen him and you couldn’t–”

“Lotor, calm down,” Acxa ordered, raising her hand to stop the hissy fit that she was sure was about to happen.

Lotor very nearly snarled, “Don’t tell me to calm down! Every other suitor in the house ran out screaming except for you! There was no way that you didn’t see him! Everyone else saw him!”

Acxa reprimanded him again, “Lotor!”

This time, he glared at her, but snapped his mouth shut anyway. At least he could take a hint some of the time.

Lance handed the camera to Acxa, which she took. She glanced down at it, frowning in frustration that the photo she had worked so hard for all these years had once again slipped her grasp. Her fingers tightened around the device.

“He just didn’t show himself to me right away. I’ll come back tomorrow, okay?” Lance told them. Mostly Acxa, he seemed to be doing his best to ignore that Lotor was even there, which was understandable considering the entitled bastard was practically breathing down his neck.

“Alright, that works,” Acxa agreed.

Lotor narrowed his eyes and spat, “You better.”

Acxa was really having a hard time resisting the urge to smack Lotor.

Lance seemed to be in the same boat as he furrowed his eyebrows at Lotor again before walking backwards down the street. “See you tomorrow,” Lance called, accompanying his farewell with a wave. Then he spun on his heel gracefully and continued off down the path. Acxa watched him leave for a moment, his hands shoved into the pockets of the fanciest jacket he owned and his head low. His hair blew in the wind as he hit the crosswalk, and then he was out of sight.

Acxa sighed. She had to get that picture, and that man was really the only ticket that she had. If it meant waiting another day, then so be it. Acxa could wait another day. After all the years that she had been attempting to get a glimpse at the mythical monster child, another day was nothing. The real challenge was listening to Lotor’s ramblings about what an unholy being Keith was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My new friend is a _looker!_ And he turns _a lot_ of heads!


	7. Two Feet off the Ground

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to a very _specific_ impatient fucker who didn't care about my pirate dream or my general health because I hadn't posted this chapter yet and that's all that matters. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy this! That goes for all of you lovely people reading my story, not just that one bitch who woke me up.

Keith wasn’t excited. He wasn’t curious, he wasn’t ready, he wasn’t able to care at all, and he certainly wasn’t sitting at the little cubbyhole for his one-way glass to wait, nor had he been there for an hour. He was simply checking to make sure the glass was clean. Or maybe he was just tying his shoe quickly and needed a place to sit down. Perhaps he was actually just tired of the all-consuming cushiness of his bed and was just in search of a hard, wooden surface that was entirely flat and brought no comfort at all. That had to be it, yes. Keith was a tough as nails kind of guy, and he sat in tough as nails kinds of places.

This all had nothing to do with that dude who had come in the day before. What even was his name? Liam? Landon? Lan…caster…? It should have been Lanky, because that was what he was. Keith had already forgotten his name.

Alright, so, Keith was doing a terrible job of pretending he wasn’t looking forward to seeing Lance McClain again. He could lie to himself all he wanted, but it wasn’t going to become anymore the truth. Shiro, Allura, and Coran could all see right through his rouse. Even his paper swan chain that he had managed to string up from his ceiling was judging him. He scowled at it in discontent.

Lance had said ‘tomorrow.’ And it was tomorrow. When was he thinking of stopping by, exactly? Keith wanted to know. He knew he was being ridiculous, too. What kind of person would get excited over a thief showing up to their house again? Keith, apparently. Whatever. It was still early. Lance could come at any time.

Or he could never come at all. Maybe that had all been a lie just so that he would be allowed to mercifully leave. Keith didn’t like that thought. He didn’t want to believe that that was the case, but the more it settled in the back of his thoughts, the more it made sense. What if Lance could sense Keith’s monstrousness through the glass? Was the thin layer of glass no longer enough?

Abruptly, the door at the other end of the room clicked open and Shiro poked his head around the corner. Keith perked up, his ears standing at full attention as he awaited Shiro’s news. His entire plan of seeming aloof and indifferent towards Lance’s presence was thrown right out the window. Keith could practically hear his heart beating through his ears and his stomach felt like it was about to flip, but he sat still as a statue.

“He’s here,” Shiro informed him. There was a teasing grin on his face that Keith would normally have gotten angry about, but he couldn’t afford the energy to even address the expression when his nerves were on fire. Keith sucked in a breath. “Allura just sent him to the annexe,” Shiro added after seeing Keith’s anxious twitching.

Keith nodded in acknowledgement, but chose to stay silent, lest he release another steadying breath. Shiro stared at him a moment longer, something akin to fatherly or brotherly love brewing behind his amused eyes, then he was wishing Keith luck and disappearing back out the door.

Behind him, Keith could hear as the door opened and closed. Someone was in there. Lance was in there. Keith carefully turned around, trying his best not to make any noise. It really didn’t matter if he did make noise or not though, considering his mic was turned off for the time being. Still, Keith felt as if any sudden movement would draw too much attention to himself in some way.

He stared at Lance through the glass. The boy was nearly identical to the way he had been the day prior. He was wearing the same suit, with the same pants and shoes, the same apathetic flick about his hair, the same flirty ease in his expression, the same meandering gait. Only this time, his eyes immediately shot to the mirror. His eyes didn’t line up perfectly with Keith’s, but that didn’t stop it from startling Keith.

He took another breath. Why was he being so jittery about all of this? It was just another guy who would reject him and run away screaming the moment Keith emerged from the bookcase. This wasn’t any different than it had always been. Keith had just met this guy; there was nothing to be nervous about. It wasn’t like he was walking a thin rope, trying to maneuver an obstacle in the relationship between him and an old friend. This was just a guy who Keith was, honestly, wasting his time on. Nothing would be different.

And yet, as he watched the lanky boy on the other side of the wall bounce around on his heels and investigate the bookshelf again, Keith couldn’t help but argue against his own mind that there could be something, if he just bothered to put in the effort, if he just bothered to shove himself a little bit farther into the open than he ever had before. Maybe, instead of barging in and ruining everything instantly, Keith could just seriously give this a chance, once. Maybe the walls he had up internally had to come down before he braved the walls that were externally between them.

With that mentality in place, Keith watched Lance as he ambled over to the bookshelf again. This time, however, he didn’t reach for a book. Instead, his delicate fingers gently slid over the ceramic form of a swan that was settled amongst the books. He carefully picked it up, clearly not wanting to break it. Lance inspected it, squinting at the little holes on the back of the swan. He raised an eyebrow, then moved on to study the face of the swan. There was another hole in the swan’s beak, barely noticeable.

Shrugging, Lance pressed the swan beak to his lips and positioned his fingers over the openings of the holes on the back. Lance’s face made a couple struggling attempts at making music, playing the swan like an ocarina. He winced at the high-pitched sound that emanated from the ceramic swan, but he didn’t stop blowing air into it. His fingers moved around over the holes as he tried to figure out what combination made anything close to a note.

Keith snickered at Lance’s musical effort. He flicked the button on his mic, turning it on. Then, he leaned in toward the mic and suddenly asked, “Is that Tchaikovsky?”

On the other side of the glass, Lance leaped backwards. He let out a small shriek that rivalled the pitch of the swan in his hands, which he nearly flipped right out of his grip entirely. Luckily, his gangly arms managed to catch it before it could shatter.

“You really love scaring the shit out of people, don’t you?” Lance quipped after a moment, turning around to face the mirror again.

Keith huffed a laugh, “Do you play?”

Lance looked down to the swan ceramic in his hand. “The swan? No, no, but I always meant to pick it up. Lovely instrument, I must say,” Lance joked, failing to keep the smile off his face. It was infectious, Keith was starting to discover.

“What do you play?” Keith asked.

Lance replaced the swan on the shelf and closed the glass covering again. He drifted away from the shelf, his hands in his pockets again. “How do you know I play anything?” he questioned mysteriously.

With a squint at the man in front of him, Keith challenged, “You play something. I know.”

The boy in the annexe snorted and paused walking. He was still not anywhere close to the mirror, but Keith was still able to see the small quirk of his lip. “What makes you say that?”

Keith could feel the challenge in his words as it rolled off him in waves. He narrowed his eyes, intrigued. “Intuition. What do you play?”

Lance didn’t respond. Instead, he sauntered closer to the mirror, the smirk only growing on his lips. There was a lackadaisical sway to his hips and he nearly tilted to one side with how causally he was carrying himself. His eyes were zeroed in on the mirror though. He removed his arms from his pockets as he approached, letting them rest across the mantle place. Once more, his gaze travelled across the glass, settling in various different places for a moment as though he were searching for Keith’s eyes on the other side. They never landed. Finally, Lance just let his head loll to the side and his eyes focused on the speaker. “Guess,” he dared simply.

Keith wasn’t sure if Lance was being serious, but Keith was absolutely ready to pull out all of the stops.

It took nearly no time at all for Keith to call to Coran and ask that he set up a series of instruments in the annexe. There was a bass, a set of drums, a guitar, a saxophone, and even a violin. He was going to find Lance’s instruments if it killed him. Coran hadn’t complained about setting everything up. He actually seemed rather excited, and just as amused as Keith was at the slack-jawed look on Lance’s face when he started wheeling everything in. The couch and coffee table had both been pushed out of the way and everything.

At some point, Shiro had come up to ask Keith if this was all really necessary, but Allura had shooed him away with a smile on her face, stating that he was trying to find the boy’s instrument. Keith hadn’t even paid them much mind. He couldn’t even bring himself to take his eyes off the situation before him. His ears twitched happily as he watched Lance navigate the many different instruments. They were all instruments that Keith could play. Not at expert levels, but it was hard to spend so many years locked away, so he had to pass the time somehow. Lance just looked overwhelmed.

Finally, a determined look crossed his face and he glanced up to the mirror again. “Get ready for this, Flyboy, because I’m about to knock your socks off!” And with that, he grabbed the bass guitar off the stand and smoothly slipped the strap over his head. It rested neatly on his shoulder.

“Impress me, Skinflint,” Keith teased back.

Lance just snorted and stared down at the guitar in his hands. “And a one, and a two, and a one, two, three!” Lance hollered. Then he was strumming the bass nonsensically. His other hand wildly pressed in and out of the strings all along the neck of the bass, only aiding in creating more loud and screeching note. The amp the bass was hooked up to screamed out the song of a boy who had no idea what he was doing. Lance scrunched his face up, not in pain from his music, but in a faux display of how intensely he was playing. Then he started singing.

_“You know I talk too much! Honey, come put your lips on mine!”_ Lance winked over at the mirror. _“And shut me up! We can blame it all on human nature!”_ He started bouncing around the room, dragging the cord with him and barely missing it with his foot. That didn’t deter him, he continued. _“Stay cool, it’s just a kiss! Oh, why you gotta be so talkative?!”_ He wiggled his eyebrows at the mirror again, singing directly at Keith. All in all, it was one of the worst performances Keith had ever seen.

“No! No!” Keith cried, quickly dissolving into a fit of laughter as Lance continued his horrendous rendition. “Stop! It’s not the bass!”

Lance paused his singing to stare openly at the mirror, although his fingers continued to strum haphazardly. “No?” he called over the deafening sound of an untuned bass.

“Do the drums!” Keith shouted into the mic.

Lance stopped fussing with the bass and placed it back in its stand. This time, he approached the drum set with an excited grin, rubbing his hands together as he did. Plopping down in his seat, he picked up the two sticks that were placed on top of the middle drum. “Round two, let’s go!” Lance cheered. Keith chuckled at his enthusiasm.

“It _has_ to be the drums,” Keith muttered, to which he received only another eyebrow wiggle and a smirk in reply.

Lance raised the sticks above his head, released a warning laugh to himself, and then brought the sticks down in one motion, smacking them against the drums. They reverberated through the room, startling Keith back a bit with the power they had. His ears instantly flattened against his hair. Lance didn’t waste a second, instantly whipping the sticks around and hitting all the drums that he could reach in what could only be assumed was a beat to him. _“One, two, three! Take my hand and come with me! Because you look so fine! And I really wanna make you mine!”_ Lance hollered. It was barely singing, and it was incredibly off-key, but he grinned all the way through.

“Okay! Okay, no! No more drums!” Keith yelled, trying to be heard over Lance’s ruckus of a song.

_“Four, five, six! C’mon an’ get your kicks! Now you don’t need money with a face like that, do ya?!”_ he sang.

“Lance!” Keith screamed again, laughing as he did.

Lance finally stopped banging the drums to stare intensely at the glass. _“I said, are you gonna be my man?”_ he finished the lyric with a lowered and more teasing voice.

Keith breathed a sigh of relief. “Definitely not.”

Lance laughed, tilting his head back as he did. “Is that for the drums or for being my man?” he asked once he had calmed down enough to smile brightly at the mirror.

With a scoff, Keith rolled his eyes. “Both. No one is going to want to be your man if that’s how you try to impress them,” he clicked his tongue.

“What?!” Lance chirped. “I thought that was pretty good!”

“That’s not the word I would use,” Keith passive aggressively suggested. “Okay, it’s not the drums… Saxophone.”

Lance kicked his legs out from the drums and swiveled around in his seat. Then, swiftly standing, he sauntered up to the mirror, adding a little bit more sway to his hips as he walked. His eyebrows were lowered and his eyes were narrowed in on Keith’s eyes. Or at least, where he thought they might be. He smirked as the words rolled off his tongue, which was coquettishly poking out of his lower lip. “Oh, Keith,” he drawled. “I’ll give you the best sax of your life.” Then, with a wink, he spun around again and grabbed the sax from its stand.

Keith couldn’t help the snort that escaped him. It had been an attractive display, Keith would admit that to himself, but that joke just threw him off a bit. “Careful,” Keith chastised, “there are cameras in here.”

Lance coyly glanced over his shoulder and offered a quick, “Kinky,” before spinning fully around with the saxophone safely strapped over his shoulder.

Laughing still, Keith covered the mic with his hand so Lance wouldn’t hear him.

Lance awkwardly fumbled around with the valves on the thing. His eyebrows scrunched up in confusion. Keith could already tell this wasn’t his instrument. Once he was settled, he looked back up at Keith’s window and seductively called out, “How about a little Careless Whisper for the occasion?” Then, with much struggle, he positioned his mouth over the reed.

The room was filled with the most horrible shrieking that Keith had ever heard. Pressing his ears back wasn’t enough and he curled in on himself, slamming his hands over his ears. Lance pulled away from the saxophone, even surprising himself with how bad it was.

“Never do that again,” Keith hissed into the mic as he removed his hands from his ears slowly.

Lance chuckled breathlessly, “Yeah, that was definitely careless, but it was lacking in the whisper department.” He offered an apologetic smile to Keith through the glass.

Even through the light ringing in his ears, Keith couldn’t help but release a little cackle into the mic.

That seemed to pull Lance’s smile up farther, almost to the point of it appearing painful. His eyes brightened too and he stared at the mirror for a moment too long. “Well,” he finally breathed out, “I guess we know my instrument isn’t sax…” Then he placed it back on its stand. He wandered over to the guitar. He picked it up by the neck and slung the strap over his head again.

“If your bass playing was anything to go by, then this can’t end well,” Keith joshed.

Lance barked a laugh, “Then prepare to be proven wrong, Keith!”

Once more, just like before, he began randomly strumming out the worst noises which were the farthest things from music. He raced around the room, nearly stumbling over several different things as he sang. His notes wavered a little bit every time he laughed, but he never faltered in the words. _“Sweet talk! Everything you say, it sounds like sweet talk to my ears!”_ His guitar playing sounded atrocious and Keith flinched every time a particularly high note was squeaked out. Still, Keith was laughing along with Lance. He wouldn’t say it out loud, but he was endeared. _“You could yell ‘piss off, won’t you stay away?’ It’d still be sweet talk to my ears!”_

Finally, Lance halted right in front of the mirror with his guitar. He let his hands drop from the strings and just rest around the body of it. His eyes never left the mirror, roaming around over it as they attempted to decipher Keith’s location once more. Keith was still giggling at Lance’s musical renditions as he watched the boy before him. He was somewhat glad he was freed from listening to the horrible guitar playing, though.

Lance, however, wasn’t done. Just because his guitar was no longer being played, didn’t mean that he, himself, was finished. He continued to watch the mirror and sing the next lyrics at the same time. _“When you laugh, I forget that it’s about me. But it’s alright, ‘cause being your punchline still is something!”_ And it was a little bit too sincere.

Keith’s face heated up and he covered his mouth with a hand, not wanting anymore sound to escape him for a moment while he gathered himself.

Lance stared one last time, then swung the strap off his shoulder again. He placed it back on its stand. Addressing Keith, he said, “Looks like that’s the end of my show.”

Keith’s smile dropped a bit and he confusedly stated, “Wait, but I’m not done guessing.”

Leaving the guitar behind with the other instruments, Lance strolled up to the mantle and rested his arms across it as he studied the mirror. “Enough about me, Keith. What do you play?” He sounded so genuinely interested and the expression on his face was honest and open. Keith wasn’t even sure if Lance understood that he was making that face at all, but it was quickly causing Keith’s heart to become a pile of goop in his chest.


	8. You Don't Need to See My Eyes to Know

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now that I've left you on that cute note, who is ready for everything to be _completely ruined in only a matter of moments!_
> 
> Nah, I'm just playing. This entire chapter is more cute fluff.

When Lance had asked what Keith played, he’d been expecting an answer like the oboe or the kazoo. Not for any particular reason, just that those were obscure enough that Lance would expect a guy like Keith to know all about them.

Nope. Keith played every instrument that had been brought in. All of them. Lance was honestly impressed, and a little bit intimidated. He wasn’t sure why he was even surprised though. Why else would they have so many instruments on hand like that? Even rich people didn’t have that many instruments, and they especially didn’t have bass guitars. Lance secretly hoped that he would one day be able to hear Keith play even one of those for him. As it stood though, Keith had offered to show Lance what he loved to play most. It was a trick from the beginning.

Lance studied the board before him, squinting at the regal pieces of marble that stood intimidatingly in front of the mirror. It was very strange to set up a chess board on the mantle and play against someone on the other side of a piece of glass. It was even worse when said person was kicking his ass. Lance had never been the best at chess, but he could always hold his own against family members and friends. Here, he didn’t even have a leg to stand on, let alone any arms to fight back with.

Of course Keith’s favourite thing to play would be chess. Lance had walked right into it. If it had been anything else, Lance would have kicked ass. Parcheesi, for instance. His mind suggested poker, but then he remembered that it would be awful difficult to read someone’s poker face when it was being covered up by an image of your own. Maybe chess wasn’t so bad.

Finally, Lance blinked at the board. They had been chatting idly while playing chess about anything and everything that you would generally talk about with someone you didn’t know very well. Keith seemed to enjoy speaking about a number of things such as plants, space, and books. Lance didn’t know a whole lot about plants, but space was a subject that he could chat someone’s ear off about for hours. Books used to be something that Lance would get excited about too, but he didn’t exactly have a lot to read as of late.

When Keith learned of that, he had suggested that they could just sit down and read in each others company. Lance thought that offer had to be one of the weirdest solutions to a problem ever, but it still brought a smile to his face and he found himself wanting to take Keith up on it. Even if it did mean that he’d be reading in a room alone

It was an interesting thing. Lance had always found joy in talking to people and getting to know them, as well as in strategy-based games, but this was somehow different. It was more comfortable and safe. Usually it was just an enjoyable pass time, but with Keith, Lance just didn’t want to leave. The more Keith spoke and kicked his ass at chess, the more Lance was enticed to stay. Usually, Lance wasn’t very fond of losing. In fact, he was a sore loser. Keith had a way of making his loss into another challenge and it kept him on his toes.

Lance finished moving Keith’s piece to where he had requested for his turn, still processing Keith’s previous words to him. “You wanna be an aeronautrical whatnow?” Lance asked with a laugh. They had been talking about their hobbies and dreams for the future after Keith had shifted the conversation about space, which Lance quickly learned Keith was very into. He seemed to have so many dreams of the outside world. It reminded Lance that Keith hadn’t ever left his house before. He was trapped. Lance’s heart tugged.

“An aeronautical engineer,” Keith stated again. “As in, building and designing aircrafts.”

Lance removed his head from where it had been resting on his arms and ducked his face for a moment. He released a small chuckle without meaning to.

Keith grunted, “Why is that funny?”

Lance smiled at Keith’s brash tone. “No, it’s not that that’s funny. Spacecrafts are cool. It’s just a funny coincidence that I’ve always wanted to be an astronaut. You could design my ship for me,” Lance suggested, beaming at the mirror.

From the speaker came a snort. “If it gets you off this Earth faster,” Keith joked.

Lance reared back with a sharp gasp and a scandalized hand pressed to his chest. “Wow. You have insulted not only me, but also my entire name, my family, every generation before me, and my goats,” Lance told him seriously, trying his hardest not to break into a grin as he joshed around.

He could hear Keith trying to mask his laughter through the little amp next to him. That sound alone was almost enough to break him out of his faux affront. Keith had a beautiful laugh and Lance found himself wanting to hear it again and again. That in itself was a problem because that wasn’t what Lance was supposed to be there for. He was supposed to be taking a picture of Keith. It was for the money. Lance was always about the money. So, why was it becoming so hard to focus on that simple goal whenever Keith teased him or laughed when Lance made a fool of himself?

Finally, Keith calmed down from his laughter. “That’s really tragic, but it’s still your move.”

Lance studied the board once more. He had forgotten that they were playing chess for a moment. He picked his remaining bishop up and carefully shifted it across the squares to aim directly at Keith’s horse. Right as he was about to release his hand from the bishop, thereby sealing his move, Keith spoke again, “Are you sure you want to do that?”

Pausing, Lance squinted at the piece. “Not when you say things like that…” he muttered.

“I wouldn’t,” Keith casually commented. Lance could imagine Keith duplicitously checking his nails.

Lance pulled his hand back, taking the bishop completely away from the board as well. “And why not?”

“I’ll kill your queen,” Keith answered simply.

Lance stared at the board in perplexment. His queen was completely open to one of the Keith’s pieces. He pouted at the mirror while looking through his eyelashes. “What if I ask you not to?” he enticed.

“I’ll still kill her,” Keith flatly decided. “You’d be begging me to with a move like that.”

Lance couldn’t even help himself when he suggestively muttered, “Yeah, I can think of a few moves that would have me begging.”

There was a lapse in the conversation, followed by a bark of a laugh. “You’re admitting that you’ll beg, then?” Keith asked through his chuckling.

“I didn’t… think that one through very well…” Lance awkwardly replied, also giggling to himself. He placed the bishop back in its spot and continued to scour the choices he had. Keith’s laughter died down on the other side of the mirror until Lance was just left grinning from the residual happiness he felt from speaking with Keith.

“So,” Lance casually started, “have you ever had a beer? You’ve been in this house for quite awhile, so there’s no beer, is there?"

Keith grunted, disagreeing with Lance’s statement. “I’ve had a beer before,” he asserted.

Lance raised an eyebrow. “On tap?”

“Well… No, not on tap…”

Shaking his head, Lance smirked, “Then you’ve never had a real beer, Keith.” He lifted his horse off the board and slammed it down in a different square.

“Your knight can’t do that,” a disgruntled reply came through the speaker.

Confused, Lance frowned, “What?”

“That move doesn’t work, it’s only a total of three squares and you went four,” Keith explained. His heart wasn’t completely in his words though and Lance could tell that he was just avoiding the topic of beer. Lance briefly wondered if Keith was self conscious of the fact he had never had a real beer, or that he had never left the house even.

“Keith, what if you and I were to head down to The Kerberos Pub right now?” Lance suggested, trying to make his offer as warm and inviting as possible while also lowering his voice in case Mr. and Mrs. Shirogane were listening in.

Keith’s curious voice tentatively asked, “The Kerberos Pub?”

Lance nodded, knowing that Keith would be able to see it. “Yeah. They’ve got the best beers, on tap too. Old timey blues. The nicest people you’ll ever meet. Darts, pool. The whole nine yards. Come with me,” Lance conspiratorially grinned.

There was a long silence on the other end. It was charged. Lance could feel Keith thinking it over, the aura just radiated through the glass of the mirror. A long intake of breath broke the silence. It was followed by a slow sigh. “Thanks, maybe later,” Keith turned down.

“Keith, c’mon,” Lance urged. He could feel the smile slipping off his face.

Some part of his mind told him that this was all just part of the plan to get Keith to come out. Then everything would be over sooner and he could get the picture to Axca and Lotor. That would be it. He’d be done. Then he wouldn’t have to do this anymore. He could go to as many sleazy bars and shady pubs to gamble his newly acquired money away as he wanted.

Yet, there was still that weird feeling that tugged at his heart. He didn’t want to be rid of Keith. He didn’t want this to end. Lance didn’t care what Keith looked like, not for the picture at all. As much as he lied to himself, the picture didn’t matter to him. He just wanted to be able to look Keith in the eye, to watch him laugh, to see the expressions he made and hear the teasing lilt of his voice in person instead of through a shitty little speaker. He wanted to take Keith to the pub to have a good time, not to trick him. It wasn’t about the money anymore. Lance knew that in his chest, but he forced himself to believe otherwise. Keith was an anomaly, a beast, a cursed creature of a man. That was what he had to keep in mind.

Still, Lance couldn’t even imagine being locked up in his house for his entire life, never seeing the outside world. What was that like? How did Keith view the world around him? From what Lance learned as he spoke to Keith, the boy seemed to be in love with the idea of the world beyond his house’s walls. When Lance spoke about it, Keith latched onto his every word. It made Lance really consider all the beauty in the world that he had taken for granted before, but it also made his heart ache. Keith didn’t deserve to be locked away. He was an intelligent and capable man from what Lance picked up. He could do great things in the world. Lance hadn’t even noticed it, but his mind was already running through a thousand different places across the city that he could show to Keith.

Lance leaned a little bit closer to tap his nail against the glass as if it were a fish bowl. “Come on, you can’t live your life in there. You have to get out of there sometime, right?” He stared intensely at the mirror. His eyes searched the glass. Was Keith looking at him? Was Keith listening to him? Could he feel the tug in Lance’s heart? There was a split-second moment where shivers ran down Lance’s spine and he could almost feel the intensity of Keith’s eyes on him. “What are you waiting for…?” he muttered, entranced by the possibility that Keith’s eyes could be meeting his.

He kept his hand pressed to the glass, just waiting for Keith to respond. He never did. Lance began to wonder if Keith had left him there, staring at nothing like a moron. His skin prickled the longer he stayed there. Finally, Lance shrank back. He settled back into his spot against the mantle with his eyes firmly fixed on the chess set. He rested his head against his arm, hiding his face from the mirror again.

“Y’know… you’re really not missing much…” Lance murmured into his arm.

“Really?” Keith piped up. His voice sounded off, as if he hadn’t used it for so long that he couldn’t remember how to make it work the way he wanted. “The Kerberos Pub didn’t sound so bad,” he offered.

Lance tilted his head to the side so he could stare at the speaker. “Aside from that, I mean. There’s not much out there.”

“What about the street fairs?” Keith prodded.

A small smile graced Lance’s features. “Yeah, those are kind of cool. The vendors themselves are really nice too.”

“I’ve never seen a lake before,” Keith confided.

Lance furrowed his eyebrows. “You’ve never… Have you ever been swimming?”

“No, but it looks fun.”

Lance nodded. “I could teach you if you ever want. I’m the best swimmer there is, trust me,” he chuckled.

“If I ever leave this place, take me there,” Keith agreed.

In his chest, Lance’s heart swelled. “Yeah. I’ll take you wherever you want,” he promised. Suddenly, Lance’s entire body felt jittery and giddy. He could feel his fingers twitch in anticipation. Lance felt a little breathless at the idea of Keith wanting to actually learn how to swim with him. There was something unsaid and nerve-wracking about the idea that Keith trusted him to lead the way through the outside world, a place that Keith had never travelled before. His face felt like it was heating up and he could only hope that the small dusting of pink across his cheeks wasn’t too obvious to Keith.

It didn’t seem to be, however. Maybe it was just Lance who had noticed a little moment happening there, because Keith was already continuing down his list of outside world things. “Oh, and the park!” Keith exclaimed.

Lifting his head up again, Lance’s smile returned fully. “The park is fantastic. You’d love it. I used to spend all my free time sitting in the park chatting with people, cloud watching, and writing love songs.” He let his mind drift away as he reminisced. The wind that used to blow across his skin. The leaves the used to tumble into his lap as he sat cross-legged on a bench, humming out a tune. The ducks that quacked in the pond across from him. Everything was simpler then. Beautiful.

“Used to?” The sound of Keith’s confused voice cut through his thoughts. “You don’t go to the park anymore?”

Lance’s smile faltered, but he quickly fixed it. “No. I don’t,” he answered, rather curtly if he was being honest.

Keith hummed. “What are you doing instead?”

Flashes of cards and chips played through his head. The sticky floors and worn-out seats that filled the squished area. Dingy lights that seemed to only highlight the worst of people. Eyebags and alcohol. The flick of a lighter and the shuffle of a card deck. People cheering and groaning in the distance, muted to Lance’s ears. He had traded blue skies for dark undergrounds, fresh air for smoke, love songs for swan songs, benches for poker tables, cheery people on a walk for desperate people on the end of their rope, smiles for sneers. Every night, he came home smelling like smoke and regret.

He wondered if that would bother someone like Keith.

Lance shook his head to rid the thoughts from his mind, then grinned mercilessly at the glass. “I’m beating you at chess, is what I’m doing!” he announced triumphantly. Boldly, Lance moved his bishop across the board as he had intended to with his original move.

Keith clicked his tongue. “I told you I would kill her.”

Lance scoffed, “And once you do, all my guys will see what you did, and then we’ll come over there and stomp you into the ground!”

“If your queen is dead, the game is over,” Keith warned.

Placing a finger on his king piece, Lance rolled it around in circles. “My king is still kicking, so you’re wrong there, bud,” he challenged.

Keith sighed on the other end of the wall. “Without the queen, you’ve pretty much lost the game, Lance.”

With a dejected slump to his shoulders, Lance rolled his head back to stare at the ceiling. “Why is that? Like, what’s that even about?”

“I don’t know,” Keith replied airily. “Maybe it’s not worth it anymore. Maybe he’s too depressed to fight. He was really in love with her.” The way he said it, Lance couldn’t help but completely agree, as if it were a fact.

“That’s understandable,” Lance wistfully answered.

Softly, Keith gave his move, “My queen to yours.”

Lance complied, moving the little marble queen player to the other end of the board, Lance’s end. He slid his own queen off the board, catching her in his other hand. Then, the slot was replaced by Keith’s player while his own was set off to the side with the rest of the pieces that Keith had claimed.

“Checkmate,” he decreed. There was a smug air about his tone, but in the most good-natured way that Lance had ever heard. It sparked his heart and ignited a challenge in his bones.

Lance let a small smile tickle at the corner of his lips. He pressed a single finger into the king, just lightly. “Damn,” he whispered, “you got me.” The king clattered into the wooden squares below as Lance pushed him over. And something about those words felt final.

 

◊ ◊ ◊

 

Acxa was fed up. It had been fours days of Lance meeting up with the Kogane beast, and still, nothing. He kept coming back with nothing. Well, not entirely. It was a bunch of nothing to Acxa and Lotor, but to Lance, it seemed like he was getting something out of these visits because there was always a big goofy grin slapped across his features that he tried to hide. Maybe he was stealing from the place every time and that was where he was getting money? Perhaps it was because the Shirogane family wanted him to be a suitor so badly that they were treating him like royalty while he was there? Whatever it was, Acxa was getting pissed. Where was her picture?

Sitting on the edge of the van with her legs kicking out the back of it, Acxa stared off into the middle distance. How much time had passed? How long could Lance even take to get one picture of a guy? It shouldn’t have been as hard as Lance was making it. Keith showed himself to everyone else who had gone in there, why not Lance?

It really didn’t help that every second that Lance spent in there with Keith was another second that she had to spend out there with Lotor. Fuck, was he ever annoying. It was miraculous. He seemed to get more annoying every time they got back into the van. Acxa would have punched him if she could afford to do that.

“What is that idiot doing?” Acxa hissed. She hadn’t even meant to say it out loud, it had just slipped. Boiling with anger tended to loosen her lips a little and she would always become more likely to speak her mind. “He’s wasting all my film.”

Lotor, who was leaning against the open door at her left, didn’t seem to mind as he answered her without turning his head away from the sky, “It’s all part of his plan, obviously. He must be going for the dowry on that wretched beast’s hand.” Lotor naturally had a very condescending way of speaking, but the way he spat the words was clearly intended to be hateful.

Acxa glowered. “I wish I could be paid to waste other peoples’ time,” she grumbled.

Suddenly, the open door at Acxa’s right was slammed into, the sound startling both Acxa and Lotor. After sufficiently announcing his entrance, Lance sauntered around the corner and into view. Rather than his usual goofy smile, he was scowling, mostly at Lotor. “Give me a break,” he snapped. He angrily began tearing the camera out of his jacket again.

“Well, what else would you be doing? It shouldn’t be taking nearly that long. He revealed himself to me right away!” Lotor argued. He stepped forward and raised his nose a little bit, obviously using his height over Lance both literally and metaphorically.

Lance scoffed, refusing to back down. “I guess he just actually likes me,” he shot back. There was a smirk in the corner of his lips. He was clearly fucking with Lotor just to shut him up, and it was working. Acxa sighed.

Lotor’s eyes narrowed and he practically snarled at Lance when he spoke, “Why settle for five thousand when you could get ten times that, is that it?” The words carried a sharp bite to them as if they had been rolled in venom. “Maybe you’re forgetting, but I have seen him in the flesh. He is _grotesque!”_ he emphasized.

There was a set to Lance’s jaw and his eyes were tinged with a fire that could burn holes into Lotor’s skull. “Shut up,” he warned lowly.

Lotor ignored him, pressing on with his descriptions, “You have no idea. He is disgusting, horrific, un-kissable. He is nightmarishly ugly. They should put him down and–”

Lotor was cut off from his tangent as Lance shoved Lotor backwards into the door of the van. The taller man hit his head against the edge of it and his white hair flowed out around him in a burst. Acxa’s eyes widened in surprise, but she did nothing to intervene. Before either of them could react, Lance was already stomping forward again in a sudden increase of confidence. He slammed his hand over Lotor’s mouth, completely disregarding the height difference between them.

“Listen here, you leech,” Lance threatened. “I know your kind. You’re a spoiled rotten, pompous asshole with a stick so far up your ass that you–” This time, it was Lance being cut off. He pulled back with a look of disgust. “God! He bit me!” Lance complained, pointing an accusatory finger at Lotor.

“Lotor,” Acxa sighed, staring at Lotor with an exasperated glare.

Meeting her glare with an incredulous look, he plead innocent, “What?”

“Don’t bite Lance,” she scolded. How ridiculous was it that she had to tell him that? What was she? Their mother? This was supposed to be a serious operation, yet there they all were, fighting over the most ridiculous thing. She just wanted her picture, her big break. It almost wasn’t worth it, having to deal with these two morons, but she decided that once it was all over, she would be glad that she had toughed it out.

Lotor harrumphed and flicked his head in the other direction, effectively splaying his hair out again.

Acxa shook her head, then turned to Lance, who was still obviously frustrated. “Look,” she stated firmly, “you can’t blame us for being suspicious.”

Lance’s face became impassive. Finally, Lance removed the camera from his sleeve altogether and slapped it down on the edge of the van, directly next to Acxa’s leg. “Then find someone else,” he told her. Acxa could see the finality in his face, she could hear the certainty in his voice, and still, she knew, it wasn’t over.

As Lance spun around to trek away from them forever, Acxa casually called out, “Then give us back the money.”

Lance halted instantly, but he didn’t turn around.

“I’m not paying you for nothing, Lance, so I’m going to need that five-grand back,” she told him, hinting very clearly that this was no longer a game. At her side, she could see the cruel smirk slithering up Lotor’s face and the light in his eyes. There was something wrong with that man. Her threat seemed to work, however, because when Lance glanced back over his shoulder, she knew that he wasn’t going anywhere.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter though.
> 
> Next chapter is a heartache.


	9. I've Got No Reason to Love You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so that beautiful wonderful art is being moved to this chapter now since this is the chapter it's most appropriate for! So, if you want to take another look at it (you do, trust me) [here is the beautiful art](https://sheksper.tumblr.com/post/173701743930/genoseraph-no-wonder-your-suitors-keep-running?is_highlighted_post=1) made by the incredible genoseraph on Tumblr and [Demon_Queen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Demon_Queen/profile) on AO3

Keith strode through the kitchen with powerful steps. He didn’t want to be late, but he also didn’t want Shiro, Allura, and Coran to think he was too eager. They were all just seated around the dining room table with their eyes glued to the monitor that showcased the annexe, watching Lance. It was a little unnerving. Keith knew they were there, but it was still strange.

“It’s starting!” Keith heard Allura cheer as he passed by them on his way to the stairs.

Keith rolled his eyes, but he still couldn’t help but be happy. Not only because Allura was only being supportive, but because he was also having the same internal reaction.

He could hear Shiro mutter, “Doesn’t he own another jacket?” right as he reached the stairs.

Clambering his way up, Keith hurried along, his heart beating in time with every pound of his foot into the metal staircase. He was never this jittery when meeting people, but this was Lance. It was different. Everything about Lance made Keith smile and get all shaky. This time probably wasn’t going to be different. Finally, Keith opened the door to his room and rushed across to the other side where the one-way glass was. Sure enough, Lance was there, as beautiful as ever, just waiting. He was sat on the couch with his ankle resting over his other knee and one arm over the back of the seat.

“Hey,” Keith greeted as he flicked the mic on.

Lance whipped his head up, a little less startled than the last few times he had come. “Keith!” he returned the greeting. Although, it wasn’t so much a greeting as it was just an excited exclamation of his name. That made Keith smile.

“So, I was doing some thinking,” Keith began.

“Don’t hurt yourself,” Lance kidded. He poked his elbow outwards to mime jabbing someone in the ribs, a joshing inflection to his words.

With a roll of the eyes, Keith continued, “Anyway, as I was saying, I was thinking about when I had you play all those instruments. I never found out which one it was.”

Lance smirked, “And you never will.”

Keith accepted the taunt as a challenge. What Lance didn’t know was that Keith had carefully thought this entire mystery over, had analyzed their conversations, had even studied Lance, himself. And after all of that, Keith determined he knew exactly what instrument Lance played. “Piano,” Keith stated.

Lance seemed taken aback by that because his eyes briefly widened. “What makes you say that?”

“You have pianist hands. You play piano,” Keith insisted. His eyes trailed away from Lance and up to the piano at the back of the room. “I bet my life on it.”

A confused look came over Lance’s face and he brought his hands up to inspect them. Keith wasn’t sure if Lance could tell that he had the hands of someone who played the piano, but he did. “Alright,” Lance finally sighed. “I’ll tickle the ol’ ivories but remember; never bet a better.” He winked at the mirror, accompanying it with the clicking of his tongue.

Lance kicked his leg out and stood, shaking himself out from the cramped position. Then, he strolled over to the piano in the back. Keith watched as he shuffled the bench away from the piano, fumbling around with it for a moment. He side stepped his way in between the piano and the bench before sitting down and squiggling around to make himself comfortable. Keith caught himself smiling at Lance’s exaggerated motions. After he was settled, Lance raised his hands, cracked each of his knuckles, stretched them, and brought them to rest on the keys.

“And a one, and a two, and a one, two, three…” Lance muttered before trailing off and letting his fingers speak for him. They pressed into the keys, creating a cacophony of music in the annexe. It was gloomy, turning everything in the room grey, as if the notes themselves sucked the colour from the annexe. Keith’s eyebrows furrowed as he listened to Lance’s depressing music.

Lance then opened his mouth and began singing, _“You are my sunshine.”_ He lilted his voice and brought his tone down in the most disparaging singing he could muster. Lance was attempting to match the keys he was playing, and Keith would admit he was doing a good job, but it was genuinely the most despondent rendition of You Are My Sunshine that he had ever heard.

Keeping his eyes on Lance’s fingers, Keith leaned to the side, trying to tell what Lance was even playing to get something so forlorn. “No, it’s a B flat,” he called.

Lance moved his hands down the keyboard to another set of wrong keys. He pressed down on the keys again, tilting his head as it came out even more depressing than before. _“You are my… sunshine…”_ Lance dramatically lowered his voice, singing in notes that were too deep for his range to reach.

“B flat on the right hand,” Keith tried again.

Lance played some notes a little bit higher up, still wrong and too sad to be anything close to the original song.

Keith huffed a laugh, “Lance, your right hand!”

Once more, Lance hit the wrong keys, probably on purpose. Keith, frustrated, made a decision then. He slid around in the cubbyhole and kicked his legs out. Pushing himself off the ledge, Keith carefully made his way over to the door in the bookcase. He brushed his hand over the handle and took a deep breath. It would be okay. Lance wasn’t like all the others. Lance was different. Lance wouldn’t leave him or judge him or reject him. Keith just had to trust in that. He took another deep breath, then pushed the door open as quietly as he was able.

In the other room, Lance was still trying his best to play the gloomiest song ever. Keith smiled at seeing Lance right in front of him without any glass in between them, but it was shaky. There was nothing to hide him anymore, this was him, out in the open for Lance to see. Keith wouldn’t be able to take this back. Never before had Keith been so nervous about showing himself to another person before. This was so new to him. He had never truly cared about anyone else who had come into this room, but he was starting to realize that Lance was the first ever exception, and it was terrifying.

As Keith crept across the room, his heart was beating loudly in his chest, nearly drowning out Lance’s dramatic singing. He could feel his body tingling with anxiety and it was almost harder to breathe the closer he got to Lance. Everything in his mind was telling him to turn around and scurry back before Lance finally saw him, but he powered against the urge. It was as though cinderblocks were tied to his feet and every step was impossibly loud and final.

Keith stepped up right behind Lance, trying his best to calm himself down the entire time. One of his hands floated down to land on top of Lance’s left hand as gently as possible. Lance immediately tensed. He sucked in a breath. Quickly, trying to cover it, Lance let Keith move his hand over a few keys. “The left hand stays,” Keith softly explained, hoping his nerves wouldn’t show through his voice. He could see it as Lance’s spine twitched. Keith’s right hand slithered out in front of Lance’s chest to alter Lance’s fingering. “The right hand plays the chord.”

Slowly, Keith guided Lance’s nimble fingers over the keys to play the tune. And carefully, Keith opened his mouth. He tried to sound as confident and melodic as possible. Instead, his singing was mellifluous and soothing, albeit a tad wobbly, _“You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy when skies are grey. You’ll never know, dear, how much I love you. So, please don’t take my sunshine away.”_ His voice was low and husky, unused to singing in front of another person.

In front of him, Lance had completely relaxed. His hands were at Keith’s will, tapping against the keys as Keith indicated them. As Keith ended the verse, he could see the barest hint of a smile on his face. God, Keith knew that Lance was beautiful, but up close like this, he was stunning. Keith couldn’t even see his entire face and he was still lovestruck.

“Like that,” Keith muttered.

Lance, still smiling, answered, “Yeah, that’s a lot better.” He seemed to briefly forget why Keith was always hidden behind a pane of glass, because he casually tilted his head back to address Keith face-to-face. And that was all it took.

Almost instantly, Lance scrambled backwards. He launched himself out of the bench and backwards into the shelf of books behind him. Something fell within the shelf, shattering. Lance had his eyes slammed shut and his chest heaved as he regained himself. Gradually, Lance opened his eyes, meeting Keith’s intense stare. His eyes were wide, staring at Keith for the first time. There was a hint of fear there, Keith could see it. Neither of them moved.

Keith’s heart physically ached with every thud, yet he was frozen to the spot. Everything suddenly seemed so loud, even to Keith’s ears, which were pressed back. The intense heat of embarrassment and shame flushed his cheeks. He glanced around trying to find anything else to look at aside from Lance. His hands clenched and unclenched the fabric of his black pants, probably tearing holes through them with how hard he was gripping. He swallowed thickly.

From the corner of his eyes, Keith caught Lance’s movement. The other man had stepped forward, just a little bit, but enough that it was noticeable. Keith flicked his head up to meet Lance’s gaze again, startling him back once more with the sudden movement. Lance’s eyes were no longer fearful. It was difficult to read what emotion he was feeling. Lance reached out a hand, his long fingers ghosting through the air as they silently asked for permission to touch Keith’s ears. Tensing, Keith waited for Lance’s skin to graze across his sensitive pinna.

All at once, Keith was overly aware of every single part of his body as Lance’s eyes mapped him out. The fur that bristled on his ears, the itchiness of the purple blotches that he had come to memorize the shape and placement of, the sharp fangs that were pressing into his lips, the difficulty that Lance was probably having while trying to determine where Keith was looking.

Right as Lance’s hand was about to connect with Keith’s skin, right as all the tension was about to break, to snap, to end, finally, Lance pulled back. “Shit!” Lance hissed, he curled inwards toward his arm, spinning around and away from Keith.

And just like that, Keith’s heart shattered just like all the little ceramic ornaments in the bookshelf. He could feel ice shooting through his limbs. Keith took a step back, hoping to god that the burn behind his eyes would subside quickly. He swallowed around the lump in his throat, struggling to even breathe. It all felt like too much and nothing at the same time. “I’m a monster,” Keith hissed under his breath. Without forcing Lance to be in his presence another second, Keith raced his way back through the bookshelf door he had come from, slamming it closed after himself.

“No! Keith, no, you’re not!” Lance shouted after him, but Keith just had to get away from that entire situation.

Keith’s breathing was ragged as he hurried to the egg-shaped chair in the corner. He was struggling to pull air in through his lungs with the way he was starting to hyperventilate. His vision was blurry, obscured by tears that hadn’t yet fallen. Keith curled in on himself, burying his face into the pillows in an attempt to suffocate himself.

On the other end of the room, his door opened. He could hear as Shiro shouted down the stairs, “Allura, stay with Lance!”

Predictable. Keith already knew where this was headed. He leaped up from the chair. Disregarding Shiro’s attempts to stop him, he rushed past his cousin and down the stairs. He didn’t want to have a heart-to-heart, he didn’t want to talk about it, he just wanted to wash the moment from his mind. Why couldn’t Shiro just leave him alone for a little while?

“Keith?!” Shiro called after him. He was following Keith down the stairs, running after him as Keith tried his hardest to get away. “Keith!” Shiro called again with more force behind his words. Allura, who was standing in the kitchen with a concerned look in her eye, reached a hand out as he passed, but he dodged it.

Keith still ignored him in favour of stomping through the kitchen. He scrubbed at his eyes. Everything continued to play in his head, but Keith pushed it away, told himself it didn’t really matter and he knew it would happen all along. The stairs near the front of the house led up to Allura and Shiro’s room, as well as the rest of the house. He headed there, just for a way to get out of Shiro’s sights. His feet picked up the face as he felt another tear drip down his cheek. Right as Keith rounded the corner on the stairs, Shiro’s hand clamped down on his wrist. He was forced to spin around and face Shiro. As hard as he tried to pretend he was alright and his heart wasn’t breaking in his chest, he couldn’t.

“Keith, please,” Shiro started.

Shiro didn’t have a chance to finish before Keith was already angrily shouting, “I told you! I fucking told you! They always run!”

The grip on his wrist tightened and Keith blinked his tears back enough to look Shiro in the eye. “No, this time, you ran.” Behind him, Allura nodded in agreement.

Keith shook his head, dispelling Shiro’s words. “He just said ‘shit!’” Keith argued.

Shiro’s eyebrows shot up. “He said ‘shit’ to Allura twice!”

“It’s true,” Allura added.

Another tear rolled down his cheek and Keith weakly attempted to pull his wrist away from Shiro. “He just stood there, staring at me! No one has ever just… stood there…” he wailed.

The sympathetic look that was characteristic of Shiro returned to his eye.

Allura piped up, “If you just give the poor boy some time to adjust, this could all work out! Put yourself in his shoes, he–”

“Allura!” Shiro suddenly exclaimed. Allura and Keith both stared at him, startled. “What’re you doing here? I told you to stay with Lance.”

Both of them looked at each other, eyes wide. Immediately, Shiro let go of Keith, leaving him standing on the stairs as he and Allura raced to the front door of the house at lightning speed. “He couldn’t have gotten far!” Allura cried as they disappeared out the front door.

Keith didn’t follow after them, instead frantically peeking through the window on the staircase to watch what was happening. He could see Lance standing at the side of a van just outside the property line. Lance was talking to a woman with purple hair whose back was to Keith. He could just barely make out the sounds of their voices, but not any of the words being said. Suddenly, Lance reached into his pocket, ripping out something that had been stored in the sleeve. The woman seemed to reach for it, except before she could fully take it, Lance backed up a step and slammed it into the ground. It shattered against the pavement. Keith felt just as surprised as the woman in front of him was.

It was then, as Lance raised his voice, that Keith could understand the words being said, “He’s not what you said he was! Leave him alone, or I swear to god, I’ll–”

A shriek cut through his words, halting the conversation mid sentence. Lance and the lady next to him turned to the source of the scream, as did Keith. It was Allura. She was pointing at Lance and the woman, a look of pure anger on her face. “No!” she screeched. Shiro also looked surprised and infuriated. “Lock the gate!” Allura cried. She and Shiro were already rushing across the driveway to shut the gate that blocked Lance from the house.

Fear flashed across Lance’s face. He instantly forgot all about the woman he was talking to. “No! Don’t shut it! Don’t shut the gate!” he hollered. Shiro didn’t listen, already doing his best to slam and lock it. Lance sprinted at the gate in an attempt to make it in time. Keith gasped as Lance vaulted himself across the wooden door, kicking his long legs over the edge to land on the other side. Shiro shouted in surprise and reached for Lance’s collar, but Lance was too fast, easily slipping around him with quick movements. Allura also lunged at the boy, but Lance halted his steps, causing Allura to stumble forward with only air in her grasp. Lance twirled around her, then sprinted at the door once more.

Through the window, Keith could see as Lance entered the house at top speed. “Keith!” Lance screamed. Keith dropped the blinds that he was peaking through and spun around. He could hear Lance’s footsteps echoing through the high ceilings of the mansion down the hallway. The clacking of his feet against the floor grew louder as he searched. “Keith! Keith, please!” Lance called out.

Keith stepped over to the railing to watch as Lance raced around the corner and into the hall. He skidded to a stop right under the chandelier in the middle of the spiralling staircase. “Lance?” Keith questioningly answered.

Lance stared up at Keith, his eyes shining with desperation. There was no smile on his face, not like every other time that Keith had seen him. All the energy that was constantly thrumming through his body had seemed to be gone, drained from his veins. His hair was messed up and windblown, and his jacket was halfway off his shoulder, making him look raggedy. Everything about Lance felt so much more urgent and serious, nothing like the excited man that Keith had come to know. It was startling.

“Keith,” Lance called up to him, his voice firm but pleading, “there’s something I have to tell you.”

“Don’t listen to him!” Shiro suddenly shouted, rushing into the room from the front hall with Allura and Coran at his heels.

Allura pointed at him accusingly. “He’s a spy!” she blamed.

Keith furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, still not completely sure what was going on.

Lance stared at Allura with wide eyes. “No, I’m… Okay, yeah…” His shoulders sagged.

Keith’s focus shifted from Lance to Allura as she stomped over to him, still angrily spitting, “He’s a damn spy! He’s working for Acxa! That reporter!”

Shaking his head, Lance stared up at Keith, trying to convince him to listen with just his eyes. Keith opened his mouth, then closed it again, not even sure what to say at all of this. What did that mean for him? Was this just a ploy all along?

Allura stabbed a finger into Lance’s chest, forcing him back. “I hope they were paying you well because you just said goodbye to a fortune!”

Shiro stepped in then. A conflicted look crossed over his face. “Wait,” he hesitantly said, pulling Allura away from Lance by her shoulder. Everyone turned to him. “He’s still one of our own kind,” he calmly stated. “He can still break the curse.”

Silence hung in the air, heavy and expecting. Keith could feel his heart pressing uncomfortably into his chest. There were still tears dried against his cheeks. It made Keith aware of how distraught he must have looked. His ears, fangs, purple spots, and solid yellow eyes weren’t enough, he had to be made even more disgusting by the redness around his eyes and the slight sniffling of his nose every so often.

“Lance…” Keith uttered. His voice sounded scratchier than usual, but he didn’t let that deter him. “I know my face is repulsive… I wouldn’t ask you to accept this, I couldn’t…”

Lance was shaking his head, stepping closer to the stairs. His eyes glazed over, wet and shimmering. He reached out a hand to stop Keith’s train of thought. “No. Keith, no,” he begged.

“This isn’t me!” Keith protested. He moved down the stairs slowly, keeping his eyes on Lance the entire time. “The real me is inside here, somewhere, waiting for the curse to be lifted. You can make that happen!” Keith recited the words that Allura and Shiro had told him so many times, the words that kept him going back to the one-way glass to meet new people every time, the words that felt like a promise. “Once the curse is broken, I’ll be normal,” he told Lance. He stopped before he reached the bottom of the stairs.

There was a guilty and pitying expression over Lance’s face as their eyes stayed locked. He breathed in deeply, then quickly released it. “What if you’re not…?” Lance whispered. Keith sucked in a breath. “What if the curse isn’t broken? What if… What if the curse can’t ever be broken?” He swallowed thickly as the words left his tongue.

Keith didn’t respond, letting the question form itself in the air between them. Then, he heaved out an answer, nearly choking on the words that left him, “I’ll end my life.” He heard Coran sharply inhale behind Lance. Shiro’s eyes widened in shock. Allura pressed a hand into her mouth to keep from making a noise. Lance shook his head and took another step forward. Keith could see him getting ready to speak so he quickly cut him off, “I promise.”

“Shut up,” Lance retorted. “Don’t you say that.”

Keith didn’t falter. He just moved closer to the railing. “Marry me, Lance…” Keith breathed. A single tear escaped his eye before he could force it back.

Lance took a minute step forward. His eyes glistened and his mouth trembled, but he grabbed Keith’s hand delicately anyway. The words died in the air the moment he spoke them, “I can’t…”

For the second time that day, Keith’s heart cracked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I also made some art of my own. Just a quick sketch of Keith. If you'd like to see that, it is right [here.](https://sheksper.tumblr.com/post/174208836190/heres-a-little-doodle-sketch-thing-of-keith-that)


	10. I Could Never Set You Free

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you who have seen the movie and know what happens next; get ready, because we're taking a detour.

It shouldn’t have been like that. All of it was wrong. It was a mistake all around. Keith shouldn’t have invited Lance back on that first day, or any other day after. He shouldn’t have let the boy become so important to him. Why had he shown Lance what he looked like? Why had he assumed that Lance would be different? None of them would ever be different. And it wasn’t even Lance’s fault, it wasn’t anyone’s fault. It was Keith. It had always been Keith and his curse. This could have all been avoided if Keith hadn’t been a fool from the beginning. Allura and Shiro had always been right, everyone who had ever run away screaming had been right. He was a monster, a beast.

Keith tried to pull his hand away. He tried to nod his head and accept that Lance could never love someone who looked the way he did. He choked down the lump in his throat and bowed his head in order to hide the trembling of his lip. Some part of him wanted to tell Lance that it was okay and he wasn’t to blame, that it was understandable and nothing was expected of him. He couldn’t, though. If he opened his mouth, he was sure all that would come out would be a heaving and shaky sob.

Except, as Keith tried to gently remove his hand from Lance’s grasp, he found that he couldn’t. Lance tightened his hold just enough that Keith would have to really tug to get away. Keith blinked hard. Then, he slowly brought his eyes up to meet Lance’s intense stare.

“I don’t have the power to break your curse,” Lance mouthed.

Keith’s eyebrows drew together. “What…?” he asked, more confused than before. He tried to pull his hand away again, but Lance wasn’t having that.

Lance stepped forward again, startling Keith. The railing was still between them, but Lance held his hand like it wasn’t even there. “I’m… I’m not a blueblood…” he admitted. Keith’s eyes widened. “I’m just some guy and I can’t break the curse. They got me confused with someone else. I’m not that Lance McClain guy, whoever he is. My name’s Lance Sanchez. I just needed the money…” Lance smiled, a soft laugh escaping him. “Keith, when we first met, you read me instantly. You called me out and told me that I was a fan of the money. You also told me that money and I aren’t meant to be. I realized, somewhere along the way, that I don’t really care about the money, not nearly as much as I care about you. We only just met, I know, but maybe we are meant to be…”

Keith’s entire body felt like jelly, as if someone had taken all the strength from him. He couldn’t look away from Lance. The words that Lance was saying, they couldn’t be true. Keith’s heart physically ached with how desperately it was struggling to be free from his chest. Keith’s hand burned where it was being held by Lance, much the way his face did.

“I can’t break your curse,” Lance repeated, “but I can take you on a date. If you want to, of course.” He offered Keith a very lopsided grin that had Keith melting instantly.

Every part of Keith’s body was screaming to accept. He wanted to so badly. It wasn’t even just a matter of someone giving him a chance and seeing him past his outer appearance, it was the fact that it was someone who he deeply cared for right back. His feelings weren’t standalone. Keith almost wanted to sob in relief.

And yet, he struggled to force the words off his tongue. Lance wasn’t a blueblood. He couldn’t break the curse. Keith couldn’t bear to put Lance through the sort of mental strain it would inflict to be with him. Being seen with Keith, being known as Keith’s date, as his boyfriend, as his husband. How could Keith let Lance go through such anguish? It wasn’t fair to Lance.

Keith gathered himself. He licked his lips. “But… I look like this… I look…” What could he say there? Hideous? Monstrous? Disgusting? Demonic?

“Beautiful.” Lance’s voice didn’t waver. “You look beautiful.”

Keith stared at Lance. More words were leaving his mouth that Keith grappled with. He had never heard that word directed at him before. Never. Not once. No one had ever looked at Keith and done anything but scream and run. It was a wonder that Shiro, Allura, and Coran were even willing to look after him for so long. Keith was grateful for it every day, even as they all reminded him constantly that he needed to work towards finding a key to lifting the curse. Keith wasn’t beautiful, Keith was abhorrent. This wasn’t even Keith, this was just a vessel that Keith was so unfortunately placed in, and that was the belief he lived his life with.

Then, suddenly, this man, this dishevelled and wistful man, looked at Keith and decided that that was all wrong. He looked at Keith with eyes that saw something different. He looked at Keith in a way that no one had ever looked at him. This man, Lance, didn’t see a beast or an abomination, he saw a person who he wanted to take on a date. He couldn’t lift the curse, he couldn’t save Keith from his own appearance, he knew he was taking on all that Keith was by asking him out, and he still asked anyway. He could have walked out the door without any repercussions, never to gaze upon Keith’s unholy image again, and no one would have blamed him, yet he still grabbed Keith’s hand like a lifeline.

And right then, as Lance’s eyes sparkled with so much genuine care and concern, so much honest attraction and adoration, Keith didn’t even have to think about the words when they slipped off his tongue, “I do want you to take me on a date.”

Lance’s face instantly brightened up like he’d won the lottery. Keith’s face was probably doing much the same thing. But it didn’t matter. It didn’t last long.

“No!” Allura shouted. She had stayed silent through the entire interaction until this point. “He’s just using you for the money, Keith!”

Keith’s smile faltered before disappearing entirely. Lance was turned around staring at her, bewildered. “I’m not–”

Shiro cut off Lance’s protest, “You’re not getting a dowry, so don’t expect one.” His tone was cold and threatening. He grabbed Lance by the elbow and yanked him back. The force dislodged his hand from Keith’s, causing them both to panic. Lance watched Keith with wide eyes.

“Shiro, stop it!” Keith yelled, a growl to his voice. He hurried down the rest of the stairs to grab at Shiro’s arm. It didn’t do much.

Lance was stumbling along, attempting to break out of Shiro’s grip as well. “Keith,” Lance worriedly said. His feet kicked out under him as he tried to get away. Lance reached his hands out to Keith.

“Let go of him!” Keith slammed a fist into Shiro’s wrist, causing his hold to loosen minimally. Lance nearly fell to the ground. Shiro just hiked him up once more to continue kicking him out.

There was a sudden weight around Keith’s own upper arm. Allura was pulling him back, keeping him from following after Shiro and Lance. “Keith, listen to yourself!” she argued. “You’re not going to date a gold digger!”

Keith tried to break free of her hold. “He’s not like that!” Keith objected with a particularly hard shove to her shoulder. He could feel his anger rising. Where he was once numb and frozen with grief at the loss of Lance from his life, he was suddenly replaced with the boiling hot rage that was so characteristic of him. How dare Allura and Shiro try to tell him who he could date? After all these years trying to find someone only to finally do it and have him sent away. Keith ripped his arm away from Allura and stomped after Shiro in order to save his flailing date.

“He can’t even fix you!” Allura screamed.

Keith’s feet halted entirely. That anger seeped through his body like water through a grate. It was all numb once more. Cold and frozen. He couldn’t hear Shiro’s irritated words, Allura’s berating tone, or Lance’s desperate pleas anymore. His ears were ringing with Allura’s words. He was abruptly aware of every component of his body just as before. It all hurt. Every little feeling that he was experiencing felt magnified and painful. Even the lack of sensation ached. He stared blankly ahead, listening to it play through his mind again and again.

_Fix._

The word echoed in his mind.

When Keith came back to his mind, the doors at the front were closed. Lance was on the other side. He was probably gone. Allura and Shiro had made sure of that. Keith’s limbs felt heavy. He stared at the locked door for a moment, just waiting for Lance to come back. He was hardly able to keep his ears pointed upward. Keith had never felt so dejected and cold in his life.

“Keith?” Shiro’s voice called. The name reverberated around the high ceiling of the stairwell. It felt as though it was all pressing down on him and crushing him. His lungs strained. “Keith, are you alright?” Shiro’s hand landed on Keith’s shoulder, like a weight that forced him under the water and drowned him in his own hopelessness.

“Keith, you’re crying,” Allura told him. She stepped forward to wipe the tears off his cheeks. Was he crying? He hadn’t noticed. He hadn’t felt it. “You didn’t want someone like that anyway, Keith, he was just using you. We can find someone better, I promise,” she soothed.

Wrong. That was all wrong. Lance wasn’t using him. She hadn’t spent those days with Lance. She hadn’t seen the vulnerability in Lance’s eyes as he confessed. She knew nothing. Both of them, they both knew nothing. Keith reacted instinctively. He smacked Allura’s hands away from his face. She balked at him and startled back. Keith’s eyes bore into her, all the fire and fury pooling in his tears, burning streaks down his skin. He yanked his shoulder out of Shiro’s hold. Shiro opened his mouth to protest, but Keith growled at him, low and threatening in his throat. His fangs gleamed and his sickly, yellow eyes practically glowed with the light of pure anger.

“Keith…?” Allura stared at him in confusion. It took her by surprise, the hatred in his eyes.

There weren’t words that Keith could use to articulate the pain and longing he was feeling. After all these years of being told that he had to find someone who would be able to look past his appearance, only for that someone to be ripped away from him moments later. It was an agonizing burn, especially since Keith had no way of contacting Lance and it wasn’t as though he could just run into him on the street. Keith was a prisoner in his own home, in his own body.

He didn’t spare them a second glance. Instead, he spun around and bolted down the little hallway that led to the kitchen. Shiro and Allura were calling out his name, but he didn’t turn around. His ears refused to even tilt in the direction of their voices. He stomped his way through the house and up the stairs near the back. At the top, his door awaited him, ajar and beckoning. It had never felt so small and confining, yet so safe and protecting at the same time. Keith barged his way into the room and slammed the door shut behind him. With the flick of his hand, he locked it. Just to make doubly sure that Allura or Shiro wouldn’t assume their ‘help’ was wanted, Keith dragged a nearby chair over to the door and jammed it under the doorknob.

His chest was still heaving and his bones still felt like they were on fire. The muscles in his arms twitched, pleading him to punch something. His legs wouldn’t stay still, driving him to pace the room with intense strides. He couldn’t hear anything except the sound of his own broken heart try its best to pump. He wanted to kick the one-way glass so hard that it shattered. He wanted to dig his own fingernails as deep into the skin as he could get them and forcefully scrape the purple spots off his body. He wanted to climb out the window and show himself to the world. He wanted to kiss Lance. None of those were options, though. Instead, Keith yanked the chain of swans he had made down, ripping the hook out of the ceiling too. With an enraged yell, he tore them apart, shredding the little, coloured, paper swans to bits before sprinkling them onto the floor at his feet.

As the paper swan pieces fell, Keith remembered every single person who had ever come into the house. He remembered the first day they had brought in suitors and how nervous he had been. Keith could recall all the interesting conversations he had tried to have with people. None of them had ever bothered to promise a return, not without at least seeing him first. That was where it always fell apart though. Once they saw him, it was game over.

The thousands of screams that Keith had heard at the sight of him were engraved in his mind, welded into his ears. The first couple screams had honestly startled him and hurt him, but as they became a more common occurrence, Keith couldn’t bring himself to care. That was what he told everyone, that was the face he had crafted. Late at night, however, when it was just Keith and his own reflection, alone, Keith’s entire mind would wrap around those screams and replay them on repeat. They would be the soundtrack into Keith’s spirals of depression, the symphony of his tears. They had grown a very twisted and sickly thorn bush of anger, jealousy, and self-loathing within Keith’s chest, and it suffocated him from the inside out every time he passed a mirror.

It wasn’t fair. It was not fair. Why? Why did they get everything that Keith never got? How come they had parents that loved them? Why didn’t Keith’s parents love him? Why did outer appearance matter so much? Keith could have done so much and had so much, and it just wasn’t fucking fair! What made everyone else so much better that they had the audacity, the _right_ to look down on Keith and scream at the sight of Keith like they did? What sort of sick and cruel joke were Shiro and Allura playing – was the universe playing – that they would rip Lance from Keith’s bare hands? The only person who had ever looked at Keith and saw past his outer shell, saw someone who he had deemed worthy of taking on a date, and he was taken away. Keith didn’t even give a shit if Lance really was using him for the money. He had so much desperate faith in Lance that he wasn’t, but even if he was, it didn’t matter. He didn’t scream. He spoke to Keith like they were equals. That was all that Keith really wanted.

So, Keith screamed and tore his room apart until the anger and pain slowly gave way to fatigue. He was sure that at some point, Allura and Shiro, possibly even Coran, had come by knocking on Keith’s door. Perhaps they had even tried to speak to him through the one-way glass. Could they hear him screaming through the walls even with the speaker for the annexe off? It didn’t matter in the end, because Keith had zero intention of answering anyone. Exhaustion did eventually set in though, and he supposed that that was probably what Allura and Shiro were waiting for. Fair enough.

Keith didn’t even bother to get ready before he was flopping into bed. He didn’t get under the covers. He didn’t change or brush his teeth. He just let gravity do the work. Rather than sleep, Keith just stared at the wall blankly. His body was so devoid of any energy and his mind was so emotionally drained that he didn’t even have the motivation to shift out of the slightly uncomfortable position he had landed in. Eventually, sleep overtook him. That was enough for now. He just wanted to forget everything that was plaguing him. Quietly, sadly, Keith fell into a vast pit of restless unconsciousness.

 

◊ ◊ ◊

 

Lance’s eyes scanned his apartment. It was the same old run-down place it had always been. Except, now, it was darker and dingier. It had always been a depressing house where he led his depressing existence, but never had it felt quite as lonely as it did after four days of wallowing. Of course, he had left to buy groceries, he had gone down to The Kerberos Pub, he had gambled a little bit more of his money away. Those weren’t the best activities – they never had been – but now they just left Lance feeling empty.

He missed Keith. And it wasn’t even a case of wanting to spend time with Keith, which he did want, but it was also the fact that he wouldn’t be able to see Keith again if he wanted to. He couldn’t just pack up a bag, throw on a fancy suit just for the purpose of impressing Keith, and march on down there to get his ass kicked at something while throwing witty banter back and forth. That was all gone. Never to be experienced again.

It was still engrained in his mind, the way that Keith looked. It had startled him at first. Who wouldn’t have been startled? It was still Keith though. He wasn’t a monster. Lance had been scared, sure, but then Keith had shuffled his feet, glanced away, shrunk into himself, and all Lance could see was the cursed boy who had been trapped in a room all his life. Suddenly, all he could see was Keith for who he was; a beautiful and intelligent man that just wanted to be normal. It was breathtaking. It was heartbreaking. It was nerve-wrecking.

His yellow eyes were strange. Lance couldn’t tell where he was looking. They almost seemed to shine a little bit too, which made them even more alien. Yet, as Lance had stared at them, he came to realize that they really weren’t all that weird at all. In fact, they were kind of beautiful. Lance was also more of a fan of blue than yellow, but he felt like he was gazing into pools of gold. Maybe it was his already-present attraction to Keith that blinded him to Keith’s actual appearance, but he couldn’t even will himself to find those shining eyes of Keith’s anything but beautiful.

The ears were definitely unexpected. Lance hadn’t meant to really think about it, but Keith didn’t have any human ears on the side, it was just the furry ones on his head. They were very expressive, which was helpful. When Keith was taken aback, they stood erect on his head. When Keith was nervous and dejected, they slowly flattened themselves, trying to make Keith seem as small as they could. It was odd to see ears on top of a human head like that, but not nearly as off-putting as it could have been. Lance found them rather adorable and distracting. After all those days of trying to tell what Keith was thinking through only a speaker, it all of a sudden felt very easy to read Keith with the little waving flags for ears that he had. Lance smiled just thinking about them.

He hadn’t even noticed the fangs until Keith had started talking. They weren’t visible on the outside, and maybe that was why they weren’t that big a deal to Lance either. He didn’t want to be one to fetishize other peoples’ struggles, but they were sort of hot, he wasn’t about to lie. They matched the bite of the words that Keith was able to spit. When he smiled, they reminded Lance that Keith was dangerous. Not in an actually threatening way, but in the sense that Keith was dangerous for Lance’s health. Keith’s smiles were heart-stopping, fangs and all.

All along Keith’s body, there were purple splotches. Keith had obviously tried to cover them up before, maybe had even scratched at them. Lance didn’t like that. They almost looked like bruises at first, and Lance was prepared to believe that they were. After taking a moment to really look at Keith though, he had realized that they weren’t like bruises at all. In fact, they were actually sort of cute. It was like Keith had been painting a beautiful purple masterpiece and had gotten paint all over himself. As if it had splattered over his face and hands. Keith was beautiful.

It actually deeply hurt Lance to know that Mr. and Mrs. Shirogane didn’t believe him and thought he was using Keith for money. Lance could have easily sold off Acxa with the picture and then married Keith for the dowry. It wasn’t about that though. Lance felt that spark whenever he was in the annexe with Keith. He felt that jolt in his heart every time Keith laughed or joked around. Lance’s heart had nearly jumped out of his throat when he had been playing the piano, only for Keith’s hands to slither along his own. The fact that he had been right there had his heart going like a jackhammer. Holding his hand, meeting him for the first time, that smile, god, it was all just so perfect.

They hadn’t even given Lance a chance. They had just thrown him out and that was that. No debate. Keith had even argued with them and tried to protect Lance’s good name. It wasn’t enough in the end though. He wasn’t a blueblood, and apparently that was all that mattered to Keith’s family. He had heard the word that Mrs. Shirogane had used too. _Fix._ As if there was something wrong with Keith. As if this was even a curse rather than a quirk or a slight abnormality.

There wasn’t even enough time to argue with them himself. Maybe he would have if he had fully realized just what this all meant. It was too little of time. He hadn’t had the chance to ask Keith about all his favourite movies and songs, what he liked to do, if he believed in things like ghosts or horoscopes, what secret talents he had. There wasn’t even enough time for Keith to fully find out what Lance’s instrument was.

Though, Keith had been correct. Lance played the piano. Lance had piano fingers.

Lance’s hands smoothed along the wooden cover of the piano, just enough that he could feel the texture. He settled down on the bench in front of his piano. It was a small piano and it was a little bit worn in some places, but it could still belt out a song just like a grand. That piano was probably the most expensive thing that Lance owned, his prize possession. He loved it. Gently, Lance lifted the cover, careful not to drop it and ruin the keys. When it was slipped back and away, Lance finally let his fingers rest delicately on the white keys. They shifted around, finding their home in the notes as he softly played.

 _“You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy when skies are grey. You’ll never know, dear, how much I love you. Please, don’t take my sunshine away,”_ Lance sang along. His voice was a little scratchy and too quiet to the point where some of the words couldn’t be made out to anyone listening. But he was alone, and it was only for him, so it didn’t matter in the end. Maybe Lance shed tears at the loss of someone who he might have ended up marrying for real some day. Lance was a bit of an optimist, as well as a hopeless romantic, but this time, he was sure that there was something there, and Keith had felt it too. Something that was far too good to give up.

Which was why Lance wasn’t going to give it up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanna say that I know there are a lot of comments that I haven't replied to, and I'm trying real hard but I'm sick as hell and it's difficult. I almost forgot to even post this today. I'll get around to it, I promise, and I'm sorry.


	11. Breath Against the Glass

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time for a prison break.

Y’know, Keith really couldn’t tell you why he hadn’t tried this before. Maybe it was out of respect for the Shiroganes since they were taking him in and everything, but it was sort of stupid of him. He was strong and independent, even if he hadn’t ever been out of the house before. It couldn’t be too different from what he had read in books and seen on television, could it? No, of course not. Keith would survive on his own. He’d find himself and he’d find Lance along the way. All while avoiding his guardians.

So, Keith very carefully scoured his room for things he could cover himself up with. There were tons of things around, but he was looking for things that would make him appear normal and not at all like he was about to shoot up a mall or was running from the police. That would only draw attention.

A simple red beanie for his ears, which he would do his best to keep covered. Luckily, it was a long hat and it extended to his jaw if he pulled it down enough. It would be awful strange if someone noticed that he didn’t have any human ears. Especially if he could still hear things. He covered his eyes with a pair of Allura’s sunglasses. They were fairly big and tinted. Keith had checked in the mirror and with many other objects, but he still couldn’t see his eyes. They were very similar to the one-way glass that Keith was used to. That would solve the yellow eye issue. His backup plan was to tell people that they were coloured contacts. Those existed. He looked it up. For his purple splotches, he had first thought about pretending they were bruises, but after a lot of effort with Shiro’s concealer, he found that he could cover them well enough that no one would be any wiser on the subject. The one on his face was a little bit more noticeable though. He just plastered a Band-Aid over it. His fangs, well, there was really nothing he could do about those unless he filed them down, and that would only hurt like hell if he accidentally exposed a nerve. He decided to leave them alone. How many people would he realistically be talking to anyway?

With that all sorted out, Keith put on a red leather jacket, some black pants that he had laying around, and stuffed his mini NASA bag full of essential items. That mostly just meant his knife for safety, Shiro’s stolen concealer, and a tiny cactus named Kitty in a little plastic case just so it would feel like home wherever he went. Keith double checked himself in the annex mirror, skirting around the camera as he did. He looked ready to kill a man. Perfect. Now, all that was left was step two, which was to get Shiro’s credit card. Keith might have been living in a mansion with two of the richest people on the continent, but that didn’t mean he actually had any money of his own. Where would he have gotten a job?

Keith narrowed his eyes at the mirror and let his focus slide all the way to the bookshelf door. Allura and Shiro wouldn’t have gone to bed already, no, they would still be up. That was a problem. It was already dark outside and Keith didn’t want to be sneaking around the city at three in the morning. It also didn’t help that Allura’s glasses washed everything in a yellow hue. Keith had thought that it would help to disguise his yellow eyes, although he hadn’t considered that he would actually be seeing in yellow. That would just make it harder to see in the dark. He had to get around them. It sure was convenient that his staircase was right next to the backdoor. As long as neither of them were in the kitchen, it would be fine.

Keith hiked his backpack farther up onto his shoulder as he made his way through the bookshelf into his room and over to the door. It creaked sometimes, so Keith maybe sure to rip it open fast, just like he would rip off the Band-Aid on his jaw. It didn’t squeak. Wonderful. Keith wasn’t even going to bother closing it behind him. Instead, Keith stuck to the outside edges of the stairs and tiptoed his way to the bottom. He held his breath all the way down. It was a wonder that no one heard him with thundering of his heart. Not that Keith was complaining, though.

Poking his head around the wall, Keith carefully inspected the kitchen. No one. A devious grin broke out across his face. This was almost too easy. It really did have him questioning why he had never planned The Great Escape years ago. Sliding around the corner, Keith slinked his way into the kitchen on light feet. His bag stayed flush against his back, carefully silent, as if it knew the stakes. Darting across the kitchen, Keith made sure to move his arms and body in sync with his legs so that his clothing wouldn’t rustle nearly as much. Everything was deafeningly quiet, except for the thrumming of adrenalin through Keith’s system. It felt like a life or death mission.

As Keith made his way to the other end of the kitchen, he began to hear Shiro and Allura’s voices wafting in from the dining room connected to the kitchen. He wasn’t too keen on eavesdropping, but it was a little bit difficult when he was deathly silent and searching for Shiro’s wallet.

“Maybe we should stop all this matchmaking…” Shiro suggested, sounding drained. “We could get him a puppy.”

Allura’s unimpressed voice flatly answered, “A puppy?”

Right at that moment, Keith’s foot pressed into a section of the floor which groaned underneath his weight, alerting the entire house to his whereabouts. What a snitch, the kitchen floor was. Keith hissed at the tiles.

“Keith?” Allura called out. “Is that you?”

Swallowing quickly and attempting to sound casual about being in the kitchen. It was just the kitchen. Nothing suspicious about being in the kitchen in his own home. “Yeah, just getting something to drink,” he replied. It sounded normal to his own ears, but that didn’t mean much when his own ears were covered by a hat.

Keith’s eyes caught on something across the kitchen counter. Allura’s pink purse. Wherever her purse was, Shiro’s wallet was bound to follow. He crept over to the purse and lightly shoved it out of the way. Lo and behold, there it was; Shiro’s wallet. Keith nearly cried tears of joy.

“Oh, while you’re up, could you make me some hot chocolate?” Allura asked.

Shiro piped up, “Me too, if you wouldn’t mind.”

Keith absently agreed, “Sure, you got it.” In reality, he had hardly even understood what they were asking of him because he was too busy sliding Shiro’s credit card ever-so-carefully out of his wallet. It nearly clattered to the counter as Keith finished pulling it out, causing him a heart attack, but he managed to catch it.

Allura and Shiro were back to discussing things. This time, however, it was something different and unrelated to Keith. He could tell it was because he was in the other room. A bit rude, if he was honest. It didn’t matter though. Keith’s revenge was no hot chocolate and one less person in the house. Also, all the stuff he was stealing. Hopefully they would forgive him. Or never find him. One or the other.

With that in mind, Keith hurried over to the backdoor with barely a sound from his feet. Then, he unlatched the lock. It creaked. Keith cringed at the sound and instantly whipped his head back. No one had heard it but him, thank goodness. Keith slowly turned the handle, all the while praying to anything that was listening that no one would come check on his hot chocolate progress. It opened. Keith pulled the door towards him, just enough that he could squeeze himself outside. It squawked in protest and Keith’s blood pressure shot through the roof. Before the house could rat him out even more, Keith tumbled his way out of the house, shut the door, and hurried along the side of the house in the direction of the main road.

Turning the corner, Keith had expected a lot of things. Namely, wide open freedom. What he got instead, was a collision. Someone was just coming around the side of the house at the same time he was. Keith slammed directly into the stranger and stumbled back. The other person copied, releasing a huffed breath of panic. Keith’s instincts kicked in almost immediately. He reared back his leg before jutting it back out with as much force as he could. It hit the person right in the shin. They keeled forward and cried out, although it was muffled as they tried to choke down the noise.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Keith hissed at the unknown stalker. He was about to grab the person by the hair and drag them up, but before he could, they stood up straight, revealing their face. “Lance?!”

“The one and only!” Lance laughed minutely, cradling his shin with one hand while balancing on the other leg. “Here I thought this was going to be a romantic Romeo and Juliet type thing, but instead I get beat up!”

Keith balked, staring between Lance’s face and his leg. “I’m so sorry…” he awkwardly apologized, not really sure what the protocol here was.

“Don’t be, I think I’m going to live,” Lance joked. He squinted suddenly. “Why are you wearing all that?”

“So no one can see everything,” Keith answered, taking a quick step back. He didn’t need to clarify what it was he didn’t want people seeing, that much was obvious.

Lance surged forward, limping as he did. “That’s terrible, don’t hide yourself,” Lance argued. He made a grabby hand for Keith’s hat, but Keith batted his hands away with an unprepared squawk. “You’re beautiful!” Lance told him confidently.

“I scare people,” Keith grumbled. “It’s just you that doesn’t think I’m scary.”

Keith tried his best to hide the way his shoulders slumped, but it must have been noticeable to Lance, because he was suddenly cupping Keith’s jaw and staring into his eyes with nothing but seriousness, like his life depended on it. “Keith, I’m not lying to you when I say you’re beautiful. You really are,” he whispered.

Keith’s heart missed a beat then. He nodded, a little awestruck and unsure of how to answer. “Lance… I…” Then, he suddenly remembered that they were standing outside of his house in the dark. “Wait, what’re you doing here?”

“Well…” Lance began, stepping away a bit. He rubbed the back of his neck and blushed as he attempted to look Keith in the eye, “I really wanted to see you again, and I didn’t think the Shiroganes were going to let me in, which sucked, because I was planning to take you on a tour of the city as our first date. I didn’t think the Shiroganes would be on board with that idea either. What I’m saying is that I’m here to kidnap you, but only if you want to be kidnapped.” He ended it off with that same old goofy, lopsided grin that had Keith’s knees weak.

This time, it was Keith’s turn to blush. “That sounds like fun… I wouldn’t mind you kidnapping me from this place. I was escaping just now anyway,” Keith told him.

Lance’s grin brightened, although it was hard to see it with his eyes covered by the tinted glasses, only made worse by the fall of night. “Great! I can’t wait to show you everything around town, Keith! You’re going to love it, I swear! We can go ice skating, and get ice cream, and sometimes they have an exhibit of some kind at the Garrison Garden. Oh, and we totally have to get pictures with all the landmarks! The space museum too! How did I forget about that? You have to see it!” Lance prattled on, gesturing wildly with his hands as he did. His shin didn’t seem to be bothering him as much anymore. “This might take a few days, and I don’t think you’re going to want to sneak out of the house every time. So, do you mind staying at my place then?” Lance asked kindly.

“I was just going to get a hotel room. We can rent one together,” Keith bluntly answered.

Lance’s smile slithered into an even wider, sleazier leer. “Oh, Keith,” he lowered his voice, “you sly dog. We’ve only just met.”

Keith’s face instantly plumed with the heat of embarrassment. He hiked his shoulders up to his ears defensively and began stomping past Lance. “I didn’t mean it like that! Forget it!”

Lance jogged to keep up with Keith, laughing as he did. “I know, I know!” Lance explained. “I was just teasing you!” His elbow nudged into Keith’s side, causing Keith to retaliate with a bump of the shoulder. “We should get a hotel overlooking the city,” Lance suggested wistfully.

“I don’t know where that would be. You’ll have to take me to one.” Keith glanced back over his shoulder to make sure that no one was coming to investigate as he and Lance wandered across the lawn.

“I will. I’ll take you everywhere,” Lance smiled. It turned Keith to goo just to hear that promise while Lance was making that face. Keith was so weak. It hadn’t even been that long and Keith already never wanted this to end. Wow. Lance’s hand found its way over to Keith’s, sliding along his palm until their fingers twined together. Lance’s hands were a bit cold. It contrasted perfectly with Keith’s own warm hands. Turning away, Keith tried his best to pretend he wasn’t blushing bright enough to rival an apple. Lance chuckled next to him and squeezed his hand happily before pulling Keith into a sprint across the grass.

And together, they escaped.

 

◊ ◊ ◊

 

Waiting in a van was tedious work. Some people would say that it was lazy and not work at all, but those people would be wrong. Stakeouts took effort. They took vigilance, precision, attention, energy, and most importantly, patience. The patience wasn’t always even related to the actual stakeout. For example, Lotor was really testing Acxa’s patience, once again. How could he possibly manage to bother her in the first two hours of them sitting outside the mansion, hunting for a way in? It was a skill.

Every hunt that Acxa participated in felt fruitless and pointless. All she wanted was a picture of the kid. That seemed to escape her every time, however. She had only ever been close once before, and it was when she had broken into their home. At least, that was the closest she had ever gotten until she had met Lance. That had truly been the closest they had ever gotten to actually seeing the Kogane beast. They had even had a picture of him. It was right there. It was within her grasp. She couldn’t even believe it when Lance had come out with it. The relief that had flooded her. She could taste it, the story that had always just barely been out of reach for so many years.

That was, until Lance smashed the camera into the concrete, destroying everything she had worked so hard for. Who would have predicted that the one guy they chose would actually fall for the monster, the demon, the cursed child? What kind of dumb luck was that? It all just seemed like one big joke that the universe was playing on Acxa. Was she really doomed to chase this story endlessly and hopelessly forever? Like a dog chasing their own tail.

Except, it didn’t matter, because suddenly, another opportunity was tumbling directly into her lap, like a gift wrapped present.

This fact had come to Acxa’s attention the moment that Allura Shirogane had come racing out of the house with a frantic look. That was new. That alone had Acxa and Lotor sitting up in their seats to pay closer attention. Takashi Shirogane followed very closely behind. He told her something that Acxa wasn’t able to make out, but he was looking just as panicked. The news only drained Allura’s face more. She glanced fearfully around the driveway of the mansion. “Keith?!” she screamed. No one responded. She cupped her hands around her mouth before repeating, “Keith?! Keith!”

Behind her, Takashi was pressing his hand into his forehead and meandering around the front step in a daze. “Keith?!” he also called out. Their screaming overlapped each other, both just as desperate as the other though.

Just then, a man with an orange moustache came racing out of the house. He curled into his knees for a moment to take a breath, but Allura was already interrogating him. Probably on the whereabouts of Keith, if Acxa was going to hazard a guess. The man just stood and shook his head. Even he had a frightened expression worn into his face. As Allura turned around again, there was an even graver haze to her eyes, an even harder set to her lips. Takashi was looking to her as if she would have all the answers, but no one spoke.

“What is this?” Lotor asked beside Acxa.

She didn’t turn her head, too focused on the events taking place in front of her. “I’m not sure…” she answered.

Lotor frowned, “You don’t think that thing has escaped, do you?”

Acxa instantly perked up at that idea. “Holy shit,” she muttered. Then, as if something in her had reset, she immediately began shifting the car into gear. “We have to find him!” she cried, flinging her arm over the back of Lotor’s seat, narrowly missing slapping him across the face as she tried to back the van up. They bumbled along and out of view of the Shirogane mansion. Once they were back on the road, they sped off on a search for the cursed child. He couldn’t have gotten far. Acxa grinned wolfishly.

“Oh, lord,” Lotor breathed. “He’s loose. He’s going to come after me!” The man stared wildly to Acxa, his eyes blown wide and eyebrows drawn together in anger. “That beast is out there right now. Who knows what kind of havoc he will wreak!”

“Give me a break, Lotor, he’s not coming after you. How can he if _we’re_ going after _him?”_ she smirked. And with that, she stepped on the gas.


	12. Give Me Warmth, Give Me Wild Summers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, there was some absolutely incredible art made by [pepplemint](http://pepplemint.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr (go check them out!) which corresponds with chapter nine, but I'm going to be uploading it here because I don't want anyone to miss it!! It's stunning, honestly, go take a [look at this!](https://sheksper.tumblr.com/post/174498952925/would-yall-get-a-load-of-this-beautiful-art-made)

Cobblestone paths winded off from the main street and into a secluded little garden. The trees and bushes obscured it just enough that only glimpses of light and flashes of people could be seen while driving by. Upon trailing the pathway, one would discover an entirely different world, a world just removed from the realities of life. Strings of light were hung up within the trees and over the branches, drooping down in low-hanging arches. Some of the trees themselves were done up with lengths of fairy lights and Christmas lights, all winding around the trunk until they disappeared at the top.

Bordering the worn-down path were vendors of all types. Their stands were painted with golds and silvers, bronzes and pearls, each shimmering in the moonlight that watched over the festivities. The vendors called out to the crowds of people wandering the paths, greeting them and enticing them toward their stands. Most of the items being sold were food; cotton candies, gumdrops, popcorn, sugar sticks. Some of the vendors even offered light-up crowns or swords, and a couple held balloons. At one end of a different trail that branched off the main, there was a small stand for face painting, where a little boy was quickly becoming a pirate at the hand of a skilled young woman with a brush.

From somewhere, a bubble machine was pumping the trail full with the little floating orbs. They bounced around through the air as kids raced by, screaming and laughing. One girl, no more than seven, was having quite a time popping the bubbles that bobbed around, giggling with glee as she paraded around the stands.

At the centre of it all, there was a giant fountain. It stood in the middle of an intersection of trails with four benches surrounding it. Water spewed out of it in perfectly shaped domes, cascading down the many layer and tiers before settling in the bottom. Coins littered the bottom of it, some small, like pennies, others as large as quarters. If one looked hard enough, they would even discover coins of varying currencies. A loonie there, a fifty-yen coin here, a ten ruble on the other side of the fountain.

Everyone was laughing and smiling, having the times of their lives. Couples held hands and swayed their ways down the various paths, parents purchased goodie bags of licorice for their children, groups of friends spoke a little bit too loud and excited as they pointed at the different streamers which decorated the lamp posts, old men and women sat on the benches littering the park and enjoyed the serenity of it all.

And Keith was floored. His jaw hung open as he took in the park before him, stunning and magical in ways that he had never known it could be. Keith had read about the outside world countless times, he had seen pictures of his own city on the internet, had watched videos, on occasion, he would sit down to watch the news for his area purely to get more information on the city. Sometimes, Shiro would bring home postcards of the city which Keith would then pin up around his room. So, Keith liked to believe that he had a solid grasp on what the city was like, what outside life in general was like.

He was wrong.

The scent of foods in the air was so intense, everything mixing together to create the most mouth watering combinations that Keith had ever been exposed to. He couldn’t place half the smells, but he wanted to find the source of all of them. The colours against the misty darkness of the night were breathtaking, even with his sunglasses, and Keith’s eyes wouldn’t stop staring, blown wide in wonder as he dazedly wandered around. The music in the air was coming from a small band that was on the other side of the fountain. Keith’s ears twitched in his hat, delighted by the cheerful yet whispering tune. Even the fountain itself, it was beautiful, drawing Keith towards it almost immediately. The coins in the bottom glimmered, catching Keith’s eyes through his tinted glasses. Everything about it was enchanting Keith and pulling a smile across his face.

And there were so many people. Just being surrounded by so many people was making his heart vibrate in his chest. He was nervous but excited all the same. For the first time in Keith’s life, no one was frightened by his appearance. That was because he was covered up, but never before had he been close to so many strangers without them all bolting for the hills. Children, too. Keith had never even interacted with a child. There had never been a reason for a child to come to the mansion, let alone to personally meet Keith. They were so small and gleeful. Keith was in awe. They weren’t running from him like he had always imagined they would, in fact, they weren’t even looking at him. All these people, adults and children alike, and not one of them was staring at Keith. Well, there was actually one. Lance was grinning uncontrollably at Keith from his side, seemingly gauging his reaction at seeing the park for the first time.

“What do you think?” Lance asked quietly as he sidled a little closer to Keith.

“This is… incredible…” Keith managed. He was still stunned. It was difficult to form words. Even the wind on his face was new and he was almost sure that this all had to be a dream.

Lance giggled. It was a cute and gentle laugh that had Keith’s heart stuttering. “I knew you’d like it. C’mon, let’s get something to eat. You like cotton candy?” Lance led Keith off to the side, headed straight for a stand that sold many sweet and sugary foods.

“I don’t know, I’ve never heard of it,” Keith replied, checking out the sign that was hanging above the young woman’s stand. There were a couple different items that caught Keith’s eye, but if Lance recommended the cotton candy, Keith was more than willing to give it a shot.

“Wha– You’ve never had it?! That’s it, we’re trying it right here, right now! No questions asked!” Lance declared. He turned to the lady. “One of your finest cotton candy sticks, if you wouldn’t mind,” he requested, moving his hands in a flourish.

The lady smiled at that and quickly whipped up a paper tub with something Keith could only describe as beautifully coloured lint. He drew in his eyebrows, confused. “Here you are,” the lady said, handing Lance the cotton candy. “That’ll be two dollars.” Lance easily handed over the money, then nodded to her kindly and turned back to Keith.

“You have to try some.” He held the swirl out towards Keith as they wandered away from the stand.

Keith just looked at it, then at Lance. He squinted. “Try some?”

Lance nodded. “Yeah, it’s good.”

“You eat it…?” Keith grunted.

“It’s called cotton candy for a reason, Keith,” Lance insisted, rolling his eyes playfully.

Still unconvinced, Keith continued to interrogate, “It’s edible?”

“Keith! Would I feed you actual cotton as a joke on our first date?” Lance stood up straighter and pressed a hand into his side defiantly.

“I wouldn’t put it past you at all,” Keith flatly answered.

An offended look crossed Lance’s face momentarily before he lifted an eyebrow. Keith watched as Lance plucked a piece of fluff off the stick, strands of the candy getting caught as he teared it away. As if it was no big deal, Lance popped the piece into his mouth. Keith didn’t even mean to gasp when Lance began chewing on the dust bunny, but it escaped him. Lance swallowed, following it closely with a delighted hum which was clearly to illustrate to Keith just how enjoyable the treat was. “Delicious,” Lance commented.

Keith was genuinely taken aback at the fact that thing was food. He stared down at it with a frown. It didn’t look the least bit appetizing, but Lance had eaten it, he had bought it for them, he had wanted Keith to try it, and it was food. There wasn’t a reason that Keith shouldn’t eat it – disregarding how unappealing it was.

He cautiously reached up his hand to the web of pink, blue, and yellow. His fingers delicately gathered some of the candy and pulled it away. It tethered itself really closely to rest of the swirl, but Keith didn’t let that perturb him. Finally, once Keith had a full piece in his hand, he squished his fingers into it gently. It was a little bit softer than he was expecting, and it really did feel like a wad of dust like the ones he was used to yanking out of the vacuum cleaner. He forced himself not to think about that as a cringe began working its way across his face. It did smell nice. That was a plus. It was fruity and sweet.

Glancing back up at Lance, Keith found that the other boy was smiling at him giddily, excited for Keith’s opinion. He stomped out any remaining reservations he had about the food and lapped it into his mouth. It was exactly the way he had expected it. A dust bunny. In his mouth. But it tasted nice, and it melted on his tongue when he rolled it around. Quickly, Keith was able to look past the strange feeling and focus entirely on the flavour. He was sure that most of it was coming from the sugar strings dissolving into his saliva, which was what he was actually enjoying, but that didn’t take away from the experience.

Keith hadn’t realized that he had closed his eyes until he opened them again to stare directly at Lance’s expectant expression. A small blush flared in Keith’s cheeks at how close Lance was.

“So?” Lance eagerly questioned. “What do you think?”

Keith thought it over again. “Not bad, but I don’t think it’s my thing,” he confessed. Keith wasn’t itching to eat some more, but it wasn’t entirely unpleasant. It was probably made better by the fact that Lance was here with him, giving him an excitable smile that brightened with his eyes.

“You’ll come around!” Lance proclaimed as he ripped off another piece and ate it.

Keith snorted.

The two of them explored the rest of the festival. Keith pointed at things he had never seen before, excited. Every time he got distracted by something and went off on a tangent about it, he would always look to Lance and find the boy gazing at him with affection. It halted Keith’s heart every time. Keith was so enamoured with this boy, it was insane.

The coins in the fountain really fascinated Keith. Lance had told him about the idea of throwing in a coin and making a wish, which had only excited Keith more. At that, Lance just had to produce two pennies from his pocket, one for each of them. They launched them into the water with a plop, leaving Keith feeling a weird and new sense of comfort that hadn’t been there before. Lance had told him that the wishes were supposed to be secret and they wouldn’t come true if they were spoken aloud. That worked out perfectly for Keith, because he would be mortified if Lance ever learned Keith wished that they could truly have something someday. That was a little bit clingy.

Keith really loved watching the bubbles too. He had bubbles growing up, so it wasn’t something new, but he still missed them secretly. They were pretty calming and whimsical. Lance also really liked them. He continuously tried to blow some of the bubbles towards Keith so that they would pop on his nose. Keith indulged him and stepped into the bubbles’ paths a couple of times. It was worth it to see the way Lance dissolved into gleeful giggles.

At some point in the night, they had started holding hands. That was a dangerous activity for Keith. Sure, it wasn’t something that was really scandalous or moving too quickly, but just the fact that it was Lance and they were together made it so much more heart-stopping. It also helped that Keith, being self conscious about the purple spots on his hand, didn’t get a single comment about them from Lance. The boy had looked at Keith’s hand and taken hold of it without a second thought, like it was an honour to hold Keith’s hand. Lance was truly a master at making a memorable first date without even hardly trying.

Eventually, though, they did have to make a stop. Keith had never used a phone booth before, but Lance showed him how to insert the money and everything, so it wasn’t that big an issue. They were quite handy little devices along the streets. Keith hadn’t ever thought about the fact that some people didn’t have their phone on them and would need to make a phone call. This was really quite convenient.

Keith slid the rickety door into place, leaving Lance leaning against the outside with a content grin on his face and his hands in his pockets. The phone was ringing. Keith waited, glancing around through the windows of the booth, exploring the various stores with his eyes. So many years in a city and he knew nothing about it. All the more reason to make the phone call.

Finally, the phone clicked and someone picked up. _“Hello?! Keith?!”_ Shiro frantically answered.

Keith furrowed his brow and pulled the phone away from his ear. “Yeah, hey,” he greeted back.

 _“Keith! Oh, thank god! Are you okay?”_ There was a sigh from Shiro in his words, one that Keith felt guilty for. He hadn’t meant to make them worry.

“I’m fine, Shiro,” Keith insisted, gently as he could.

 _“Good… Now what the hell were you thinking?!”_ The sudden shouting caught Keith off guard.

Before he could respond, there was a shuffling on the other end, followed by distant voices. Then, a new voice cried through the phone, _“Did anyone see you yet?!”_

Keith sighed, an annoyed expression befalling his face and his shoulders sagging in. “No, Allura, no one has seen me.”

Allura laughed breathlessly. _“Good, that’s good.”_ A pause. _“Where are you? We’ll come get you!”_

Keith let his eyes fall closed before he took in a deep breath and broke the news, “I’m actually just calling to say that I’m sorry, and also… I won’t be coming home… So, goodbye.” Keith nodded to himself, assuring himself in the process. The hand that wasn’t holding the phone twisted anxiously in his shirt. He could feel his ears beneath his hat as they attempted to flap downwards but were stopped by the fabric of his hat. His purple spots began to get that irritating scratch to them again as he was suddenly aware of all the little imperfections on his body.

There was a panicked yell on the other side, _“Keith! Don’t–!”_ But it was too late, Keith was already removing the phone from its place at his ear and clicking it back onto the stand to end the call. He gathered himself for a moment. Then, he spun around and unjammed the little door once more to join Lance in the frigid night air. Lance took his hand immediately and asked how it went with the warmest smile Keith had ever received.

 

◊ ◊ ◊

 

“Wait…” Lance muttered, staring at the piece of paper in his hands. His eyebrows drew together. “Okay, how did you do that?”

Keith, who was sitting across from him with his own sheet of paper, glanced up. They were both sat with one leg thrown over the stone railing of a bridge that had been made to get from one side of the river to the other. It was in the park still, allowing them both to be hidden by the tall trees that fluttered in the cool night breeze. The festival was in the distance, nothing more than a flicker of light and the hint of music that trickled through the trees. Other than that, it was just him and Keith.

Once more, Keith focused on his own red square of paper. He folded another corner inwards, flipped it around, and popped a section to the other side, effectively creating a little swan. With a smile, Keith placed it on the railing and leaned back to enjoy the feeling of fresh air. Keith had found some extra paper in the backpack that he had on his back. He hadn’t even known it was there, but when it was discovered, he had elatedly decided that he wanted to teach Lance origami, and how could Lance have said no to that? “You have to fold it to the middle now,” Keith instructed.

Lance squinted in confusion but followed Keith’s steps. “Okay… Into the middle…”

“No, that’s the wrong side.” Keith pointed at the section he was actually supposed to fold.

With a huff, Lance unfolded the piece he had just folded, copying on the other side as Keith had directed. “There, like that!” Lance exclaimed removing his hands.

Keith didn’t respond. He scrunched his face up and tilted his head to the side. Lance could practically feel Keith judging his amazing art.

“What?” Lance prompted.

“Hmm?” Keith grunted back, looking back up at Lance.

Lance gestured to his little blue swan-like thing. “What’s wrong with it?”

Keith just sat there and tilted his head again. He bit his lip, as though he was trying his hardest to keep all criticisms in. “Your swan doesn’t look like a swan at all,” he blurted out seriously.

Lance clicked his tongue and picked his crumpled bird up. “How dare you? My swan is a true sight to behold!”

Keith hummed, “Your swan is certainly a sight, I’ll give you that.”

Even more offended, Lance placed his swan directly next to Keith’s pristinely folded paper bird. Lance’s swan fell to the side a little bit but stayed up enough. The two birds sat together, side by side. One red and one blue. There was something about them being next to one another that just made them both work. Lance tried not to smile as he unintentionally equated the swans to him and Keith.

“She’s a beaut, Keith!” he declared, sticking his nose upwards to the sky in retaliation.

“If you practice some more, your swans won’t look so lumpy,” Keith commented, leaning closer to the birds for a better look.

Lance suddenly burst out laughing. “Did you just call my swan lumpy?!”

Keith’s shoulders drew up and he pointed an accusing hand at the small birds. “It is! Look at it!” Lance continued to snicker about his lumpy swan as Keith awkwardly attempted reconciling his comment. He only served to stick his foot in his mouth. “I’m not saying it’s inelegant, I’m saying it’s a chunky swan. A swan with some feathers missing. There’s nothing wrong with your swan, it’s just a clump of an animal.” Lance wheezed as Keith’s face grew a little red. He was really digging his own grave as opposed to helping.

Lance wanted to keep his chunky swan for a long time as something to remember this date by, because he could feel it in his bones that this date was going to be the beginning of something very important. Lance just had to pause and take it all in. Keith’s red face as he floundered around with his words. His shoulders hiked up and his hat twitching as his ears shifted. The awkward bandages and smeared makeup half covering his spots. Those goofy glasses that made him look like he was straight out of the 80’s. The night air that ruffled Keith’s bangs. Keith’s sexy red leather jacket that added a pop of colour against his black shirt, pants, hat, and backpack. All of it just added up to the best date of Lance’s life and he didn’t want to forget a single moment of it.


	13. We're Just a Couple of Kids

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is... just a lot of making out... and nothing else... I embarrassed myself hardcore while writing this, I'm the weakest of all.  
> Some of y'all ask me to write smut sometimes, but I have to take water breaks when I make them hold hands.

Finding a hotel to stay in over night wasn’t nearly as troublesome as Keith had expected it to be. He wasn’t really sure how it worked with hotels, how you got your room and where they were located and such. He had never been to a hotel, obviously. From what he read about them in stories, though, it seemed pretty straight forward. So, Keith had let Lance lead him along the darkened streets, giggling and stumbling around together as they went. The place that Lance had chosen was quite nice, but not too high end, just enough that they could stay under the radar in comfort.

Lance had been the first to insist that he would pay for their room, but Keith wouldn’t have that. As Lance and Keith came up to the counter, Keith made sure to press in front of Lance so he could pay instead of Lance. That was nice of Lance and all, but Keith was the one who was running from him family, Lance was just along for the ride. It was only fair that Keith be the one to pay. That was what he had decided.

Keith marched up to the woman behind the desk with as much confidence he could muster while wearing a goofy beanie, some tinted glasses, and a boatload of makeup and bandages. The woman greeted him with a small smile and it was at that moment that Keith realized he had no idea what you would say at a hotel. A surge of panic spiked in his chest, but he squished it down and raised his head determinedly. “I’d like a room,” he stated.

That seemed to work, because the lady immediately started typing on her little computer and answered, “Alright, for how many nights?”

Keith’s eyebrows scrunched together. He thought about it. Well, he wasn’t planning on returning to his house, but he also couldn’t just rent a hotel room for the rest of his life. And what about a house? How did you buy one of those? There was a lot that Keith was all at once realizing he didn’t understand. Instead of thinking about that, Keith focused on the present. “Indefinite,” he responded. “Do you have any rooms that aren’t booked any time in the future?”

The woman gave him a strange look for a split second but began searching through the database nonetheless. Keith just waited. Lance was at Keith’s side, just listening to the conversation taking place while glancing around the hotel. It was pretty fancy looking in terms of décor. Keith was almost sickened by how much it resembled his own house.

“Yes, we have a few rooms,” the woman replied, bringing Keith back to the fact he was buying a room. “One bed or two?”

Keith paused at that. His eyes flicked over to Lance, who was also looking over at him expectantly. “Do we… need two beds…?” Keith asked cautiously. He could hear the waver in his voice at the end. Giddiness and nervousness mixed within him as he thought about being in bed with Lance, curled up together as they slept.

A light blush dusted Lance’s face. “I don’t think… we would need… y’know… two of them…” he mumbled out, staring over at the door out of the corner of his eye. He was trying to sound as normal as could, but it wasn’t working, as evidenced by the deep red that continued to blossom darker across his cheeks.

It was all causing Keith’s own face to burn brightly and his heart to soar excitedly. “Yeah, no, that just… seems unnecessary…” he coughed out. The lady was still waiting for one of them to answer the question, and Keith was still waiting for his heart to stop exploding in his chest, and Lance was probably still waiting for this entire interaction to be over so they could move up to the room judging by the way he tapped his feet into the carpet repeatedly and shifted his arms around as if he couldn’t decide what to do with them. Keith awkwardly looked to the woman. She was smiling kindly but he could tell she was trying not to look too amused. “Just one bed,” he told her, ducking his head.

“Of course,” she replied. More tapping on the computer. “Is there a preference for the view?”

Keith blinked. Man, hotels sure asked a lot of questions. He wasn’t used to this. View? Keith didn’t even know the city. “No, any view is fine.”

Lance cut in then, “Do you have one that overlooks the Arus area?” He pressed across the counter, bumping into Keith as he did.

The woman clicked around. “Yes, we have two rooms available.”

Lance muttered a light, “Nice.” He pumped his fist right after, as if this was a great accomplishment.

Keith smiled at that. Lance was really cute, wow. Keith was stunned by Lance. Keith was stunned by how often he was stunned by Lance. Was this what actual love felt like? His heart thudded in his chest, almost like it was confirming his question. Keith chastised his heart at that. It was too early for love. He needed to calm down.

“How will you be paying today?”

For once, a question that Keith already had the answer for. He dropped his bag from his shoulder and rummaged around in the pocket. Producing Shiro’s credit card with a relief that he hadn’t been aware was building within him, he slid it across the table. Then, he slung his bag back onto his shoulder. Now, if only he knew how to use a credit card. He had the pin and everything, but how did one go about inserting the card itself into the machine. Keith would soon learn.

The lady took the card and checked it in her system. “Takashi Shirogane?” she asked, attempting to pronounce it as best she could.

At Keith’s side, Lance seemed to perk up. His eyes widened and a look of realization crossed his face, instantly morphing into horror. “Oh my god, did you–?”

Keith stamped the heel of his combat boot directly into Lance’s toes. Lance yelped and folded in on himself. “Did I lock the car? Yes, I remembered this time.” He laughed, although it was clearly a thinly disguised threat to Lance that he better not say anything. Addressing the lady behind the counter again, “I am Takashi Shirogane, yes,” he agreed. Hopefully she hadn’t ever seen the real Takashi Shirogane anywhere, because even though Keith was related to Shiro, he was still a far cry from _being_ Shiro. Keith’s smile became more and more strained the longer the lady studied his half-covered face. It didn’t help that you couldn’t even see Keith’s eyes. Seeing his eyes wouldn’t help either though, now that he thought about it.

The lady then slid the card back across the counter with a gentle smile. Keith tried his hardest not to verbally sigh in relief. “Wonderful. You’ll be in room 317.” The lady handed over a key to Keith, which he took and clutched nervously. “The staircase is right over there, but we do have an elevator in the back. If you need any help with luggage, we would be more than happy to assist you. Enjoy your stay!”

Keith nodded thankfully to her, then turned around to face Lance. The boy was just staring excitedly at the key in Keith’s hand. “Shall we?” Lance asked, holding out his hand and looking up to meet Keith’s eyes.

Keith placed his hand in Lance’s with a smile, letting their fingers naturally intertwine. “I think we shall,” he responded.

Lance grinned and began hurrying over to the staircase on the other end of the lobby. Keith kept up as best he could, laughing at the enthusiasm that Lance was absolutely exuding. They rushed up two flights of stairs, still hand in hand. Lance glanced back at Keith every chance he got, just beaming. It had Keith feeling dizzy from happiness every time.

Finally, they came out onto the third storey hallway. Keith stared down at their key, then back up at the doors.

“Which one is it?” Lance asked, jogging down the hallway, tugging Keith with him.

Keith’s eyes landed on the door with their number on it. “That one,” he answered, pointing.

Lance didn’t waste any time in guiding Keith along to the room. He bounced on his feet as he waited for Keith to position the key. Keith pressed the key into the lock and turned it. The lock stuck a little bit and Lance grumbled as he waited impatiently. Lance’s own inability to wait was beginning to rub off on Keith. Finally, he pulled the key out and opened the door properly.

The moment it opened, Lance rushed in, pulling Keith along with him. Keith released a startled yelp but managed not to fall over. The door slammed behind them and automatically locked as Lance pressed it closed with a sharp kick of his foot. Keith had no idea what was going on and it was all moving too fast for him to even process, but suddenly Lance was backing his legs up into the bed and ripping off Keith’s beanie and glasses to toss them on the bed in the centre of the room. The room was pitch black, but even the minimal city lights that shone through the translucent curtains were more than enough to highlight the glimmering longing in Lance’s intense gaze.

“What’re you…?” Keith breathed out.

Lance took a step forward, his hands floating up to press into Keith’s jaw. Keith was breathless. He wasn’t even thinking about how self conscious he felt at having his ears and eyes exposed the way they were. Those thoughts were so far removed from the situation that Keith could only feel the heat of his body and the throbbing of his heart as Lance pressed his forehead into Keith’s.

“Sorry,” Lance whispered. “I don’t want to move too fast, I just really…” he trailed off, his tongue poking out to wet his bottom lip. Keith followed the motion closely, his own mouth parting minutely. It was one of the few times that Keith was thankful for the fact that it was impossible to tell where he was looking. “Can I kiss you?” Lance huffed out over Keith’s lips.

Keith forgot to breathe for a moment. He had never kissed anyone before. He hadn’t even ever wanted to kiss anyone before. Right then, though, it was impossible to remember a time when he didn’t feel weak in the knees. Keith’s lips tingled just from hearing Lance’s question. Keith swallowed and tilted his head so that their noses touched. Finding his voice, Keith responded, “Well? What’re you waiting for?”

His voice came out so much lower and huskier than even he himself had been expecting, but that combined with his overconfident words seemed to be more than enough for Lance, who dived in. The distance between them was eliminated, replaced by the firm press of Lance’s lips against Keith’s. Lance released a quick breath through his nose which fluttered against Keith’s upper lip as they pulled away. An involuntary gasp escaped Keith’s mouth as Lance disconnected.

It had been warm, comfortable, and a little bit wet. Lance’s lips were damp from where he had been impatiently licking and Keith had felt it in the press of their mouths together. Kissing had never seemed like something worth Keith’s time, but in an instant, in a quick two second pressure between him and Lance, Keith’s entire perspective was changed. He was left panting lightly after only the barest caress of a kiss. Already, he could hear his heart throbbing his chest and his fingers reaching up to helplessly latch onto Lance’s elbows, lest the boy pull away. Every nerve in his body was on fire as they all simultaneously screamed at Keith to make that magic happen again, just one more time.

Lance was staring at Keith, gauging his reaction. His eyes flicked across Keith’s face for a sign of some sort. Keith’s part mouth huffed out a single word, _“Lance.”_

And just like that, they both collided at the same instance. Keith didn’t even have time to close his mouth around the end of Lance’s name before said boy’s tongue was already lapping up the syllables against Keith’s mouth. He forced his tongue heavily into Keith’s, who took it in stride, licking against Lance’s open mouth. Their lips slid together as they pushed and pulled, moving in sync with each other. Lance groaned low in the back of his throat and his hands tightened on Keith’s jaw. Keith’s fingers dug into Lance’s elbows to steady himself as he all but moaned directly into Lance’s mouth.

Keith’s legs felt like jelly and he could hardly hold himself up. Luckily, he didn’t have to. Lance took a step forward again, one of his legs moving directly in between Keith’s legs, effectively forcing Keith back until his knees hit the edge of the bed. Keith tumbled onto the bed, bouncing a little as the mattress gave way. A grunt escaped him and he pushed himself onto one elbow to question Lance, but all his words were cut short as Lance quickly crawled over the covers. Heat filled Keith’s body and his mind immediately blanked out as Lance’s face hovered over his own. The look in Lance’s eye was mirrored in Keith’s eyes as they stared at each other, panting.

Surging upwards, Keith caught Lance’s lips in an open-mouthed kiss, which Lance responded to in kind. Their tongues met, sliding over each other smoothly and sending tingles of pure pleasure through Keith’s entire body. The hand that Keith wasn’t holding himself up with deftly snaked around Lance’s neck to draw him closer. Lance whined and pressed up closer to Keith, his legs straddling Keith’s hips. One hand cupped Keith’s jaw, angling his head so their tongues swirled around one another deliciously. Lance sucked on Keith’s tongue, drawing it farther out of Keith’s mouth as his other hand caressed its way down the leather jacket Keith still wore until it reached the exposed strip of skin at his waist.

They broke away from the kiss with harsh gasps as they attempted to regain their breath. A string of saliva connected them still and Keith didn’t have the capacity to worry about it. His eyes were too busy locked onto Lance’s lidded ones, curious and anticipating. The quick flick of Lance’s tongue across his own lips broke the string and he sank back into Keith, his lips pressing roughly into his jaw. Keith threw his head back as Lance nipped and sucked. Vaguely, Keith wondered how different Lance’s hickeys would look compared to his purple spots.

Mouth suckling, Lance moved down. It effectively caused Keith to fall into the mattress once more. He went limp as he gave in to the addictive touch of Lance’s lips against his exposed neck. His mouth was so soft and warm, breathing hot air onto Keith’s skin with every pant that he released before plunging back in to press his slick tongue against Keith. The graze of teeth along his throat had Keith squirming. His arm tightened around Lance’s neck, forcing him to stay where he was. Lance lightly bit into Keith’s flesh and pulled away. It burned, but Lance quickly released the pressure as he sucked the skin into his awaiting mouth.

As he worked his mouth over Keith, his other hand had trailed down to meet at the stretch of Keith’s stomach. They pressed into his skin, causing coils of need to spark through Keith. Lance’s hands were soft as they smoothed over his abdomen. The hands travelled upwards, hiking up underneath the material of Keith’s shirt until his entire front was exposed. Lance’s long, pianist fingers mapping every inch of Keith’s stomach and chest as they rotated in circles. Each massage gave Keith the distinct impression that Lance didn’t ever want to let go of him, and he absolutely preened into the attention.

This was all new to Keith. Every touch of Lance’s hands into his body, every shift of Lance’s hips aligned with his own hips, every long stripe licked into his neck, every desperate kiss. Keith writhed beneath Lance. His body was on fire. Not a single inch of his skin didn’t feel completely lit up with pleasure and desire. Keith’s heavy pants and unrestrained moans permeated the air and mingled with Lance’s own growling. It was all too tight; his shirt, his jacket, his jeans, the bliss curling in his lower abdomen. Keith whined at the tension. His heart was ready to beat out of his chest if he didn’t accidentally swallow it first. He could feel himself sweating as Lance’s touch seared into his flesh. Lance’s hips shifted at the same time his hands gripped his sides and his teeth bit into skin harder than before, and Keith practically sobbed and involuntarily arched his back into Lance.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” Lance mouthed into Keith’s neck. He peppered light kisses all the way up Keith’s throat, stopping to briefly suck on Keith’s earlobe. He quickly moved back over to peck at Keith’s cheeks and nose. His hands no longer greedily kneaded Keith’s skin, but rather, just held him. Keith let out a breathy laugh and scrunched up his face as Lance travelled over Keith’s eyelids with his kisses. Finally, he came back down to land on his lips. The kiss was sweet and not nearly as hungry as every other aspect of what they had just done. “You’re perfect,” Lance whispered into Keith’s lips.

Keith swallowed the words from Lance’s mouth, letting them go straight to his heart. He slowly slid his lips over Lance’s enjoying the winding down feeling of lazy kisses without motive. Eventually, however, he was forced to pull away again when Lance shuffled his hips and Keith was reminded of the situation he was in. A startled gasp that morphed halfway into a moan tore out of Keith’s throat.

With a steadying breath, Keith gazed up at Lance. “We need to slow down,” he decided.

Lance huffed a laugh and leaned back in to nuzzle at Keith’s jaw. “Aw, but you were making the sweetest noises,” he purred.

A shiver ran down Keith’s spine and he attempted to turn his head to stare at Lance, but it was made impossible by the angle. “Shut up,” he mumbled back. His chest was still heaving and his breath was still struggling to regain some sense of normalcy. “This isn’t what I rented a hotel room for,” he grumbled.

Lance laughed fully then, dissolving into giggles that were muffled by Keith’s skin. He let himself drop onto Keith’s chest then. There was nothing sexual about it when Keith wrapped his arms around Lance and rolled them both to the side. Lance emerged from where his face was hidden to stare giddily at Keith. He surged forward and pressed a chaste kiss into Keith’s cheek. It wasn’t until then that Keith realized just how goofily he was grinning, cuddled up with Lance.

“Are you still alright to share a bed with me?” Lance questioned. There was a hint in his voice that told Keith of Lance’s nervousness. Hopefully, Lance didn’t think that he went too far or anything, because that really wasn’t the issue.

Keith shifted closer, doing his best to ignore the way his jeans still strained and pressed into his crotch uncomfortably. “That depends,” he teasingly murmured. “Are you going to try anything like that again?”

Lance’s eyes widened a little bit. He was so expressive, every emotion written clear across his face. “No, I swear I’ll keep my hands to myself!” he promised immediately. One of his hands disconnected from the front of Keith’s shirt so Lance could wiggle his fingers in front of Keith, a display of how non-sexual he was going to be while they were supposed to be sleeping.

Keith snorted, “Then what’s the point?” He completely pulled away from Lance then and rolled his way to the other end of the bed. Once back on his feet, he turned around to meet Lance’s stuttering face. He looked like he was about to sputter something, so Keith quickly cut him off with a laugh, “I’m kidding. I just want to go to sleep. Is that alright?”

An ease overcame Lance’s face and his shoulders dropped back down. He smiled shyly. “Of course, Keith.” The way he said it, there was too much raw affection in his tone. Keith’s heart throbbed and his eyes widened a little bit. Lance seemed to realize what he had just done then, quickly rectifying the situation with a quick declaration of, “As long as I can be little spoon!” There was a light pink peeking through his skin.

His lips quirked up in a smile, Keith ducked his head. “Yeah, you can be little spoon,” he agreed. Then, in the least awkward way he possibly could, he began stepping away from the bed and back towards the bathroom that was by the front of the room. He pointed to it with his thumb, his palms feeling sweaty as he stated, “Right, so, I’ll be back in a moment, first I just gotta… go take care of a few things…”

Lance raised an eyebrow, then he raised both eyebrows suddenly. His eyes flicked rapidly down from Keith’s face, then back up. “Right! Sorry! You… You go do that and I will stay right over here,” Lance stammered, averting his round eyes to stare anywhere else in the dark room. The dusting of pink that had been on his cheeks before was almost completely engulfed in a sudden and blaring red flush. Keith was sure that he faired the same.

“Right,” Keith coughed. Then he hurried away to the bathroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is barely even PG, what a wuss I am.


	14. Paparazzi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone! Stop what you're doing, this is important! There is more [stunning art of cursed Keith!](https://alunaii.tumblr.com/post/174643748560/i-drew-keith-from-the-amazing-fic-gold-holds-no) Look at him, I love him so much. And his wild mane in this drawing, I've fallen in love with it. This beautiful masterpiece is completely thanks to [alunaii on Tumblr,](https://alunaii.tumblr.com/) whom I am rapidly becoming a huge fan of!
> 
> Regarding the chapter, however, I think it's time for all that bullshit to pick right back up again.

Acxa was on the edge of her seat. Not in the riveted way. Not because something incredible was happening right before her eyes and she couldn’t believe it. No. It was because if she sank any deeper into boredom, she would very well be in danger of sliding right off her chair and onto the floor. Her hand was the only think effectively keeping her head from tumbling forward, but her eyelids had no support, and thus, continued to flutter. She tried not to fall asleep, truly, but listening to the blathering fool directly in front of her was one of the most painful experiences of her life and she was ready for it to be over.

“No, no! The ears are bigger than that,” Lotor complained, slamming his finger into the sketch artist’s pad of paper. The poor sketch artist glanced up at him with a slight glare, then quickly flicked her pencil around to erase and try again. Lotor watched her very carefully.

They had been there for what felt like forever. Lotor had become Acxa’s partner in crime somewhere along the way and they still needed that picture of the Kogane beast. Acxa had spent years trying to get her hands on that photo, but never had she been as desperate as she was now, and it was purely because of the entitled, long-haired royal in front of her. How was this man respected by anyone in the city? How was he the son of the mayor? Acxa was baffled.

It was all made worse by the fact that Acxa had assumed that with Keith being on the loose, it would be infinitely easier to track him down instead of playing the constant game of waiting. She was wrong. Three days had passed. There was an entire city out there, and as unlikely as it seemed, that was more than enough space for a monster to hide. No one had made any claims of seeing him. For three days. That was another thing that Acxa was baffled by. What kind of reality was she living in? They had to find that creature one way or another.

So, Lotor had the genius idea to put an ad in the paper. And by genius, Acxa meant stupid. If no one had seen Keith Kogane, then how would anyone have a picture of Keith Kogane? Even if they did, why would they send it in? Lotor seemed to think that a reward of a couple thousand dollars would be enough to get the public out there and doing Acxa and Lotor’s job for them. Acxa wasn’t so sure. There was no dissuading Lotor though. He was the type to always assume he was in the right.

Which was how they ended up in the police station, speaking to a sketch artist for the past few hours. Lotor was extremely picky about what this drawing had to look like, even going so far as to ask the sketch artist to make changes to problems that didn’t even exist. She was looking more and more agitated with every passing second. Acxa couldn’t have agreed more. 

Finally, the lady finished the ears, making them long and bat-like, just as Lotor had asked. He scrutinized the paper, an expression on his face that resembled the face Acxa imagined he’d make if he were sucking on a lemon. Internally, Acxa prayed that this would be enough for Lotor so they could just put the ad in the paper already and be done, but she could tell that even that would be too easy and far too much to ask of Lotor.

“Can you make the fangs pointier?” He tapped his finger into the mouth again, smudging the drawing. “Also, add some spit. He was growling and snarling.” The sketch artist huffed and attempted to clean away the marks Lotor’s finger left behind. She elongated the fangs and added in some saliva strings. Lotor studied it again. Acxa shuffled up in her chair a bit to catch a look at the drawing as well. Having never seen the beast herself, she wanted to be able to at least imagine being face-to-face with him.

The drawing was dark, heavily shaded in at Lotor’s request. The boy in the picture had a sharp jaw with a spot lining the edge of it. Lotor claimed the spot was purple and appeared like a permanent bruise. His ears flowed outwards with tons of little hairs and extended upwards past the top of his head, stretching to the point of appearing like horns. Both of his eyes were narrowed into slits without pupils or irises, just empty slates. The fangs were like daggers in his mouth, dripping with spit and venom. Hair framed his face, creating harsh shadows across his skin. There were blemishes and marks all along his neck. The collar of the shirt that appeared in the drawing was ripped and torn. Everything about the depiction was terrifying and horrific, the face of a true monster.

Acxa’s eyes widened as she stared at it.

Lotor grinned, “It’s perfect.”

 

◊ ◊ ◊

 

“Coran?” Allura called from the dining room. She stirred her tea with a spoon.

Coran poked his head around the corner. “Yes, Princess?” he cheerfully replied. His moustache twitched as he smiled at her.

“Do you have the morning paper?”

“Not yet, but I’ll have it in two shakes of a lamb’s tail!” And with that, Coran spun around and headed for the front entrance to retrieve the newspaper while Allura politely waited.

Allura was tired. She had just woken up, but after driving around with Shiro and Coran for hours through the streets in search of Keith, she was exhausted. Keith had been missing for three days, and this would be the fourth. Well, he wasn’t missing, exactly. Keith didn’t know the dangers of the outside world though, he had never experienced them. What if he got hurt? Or lost? What if someone saw him and called the police? Keith didn’t deserve such harsh treatment just for looking the way he did and Allura couldn’t help but worry about him.

Even though Shiro didn’t vocalize his concern, Allura could see it was there. Keith and Shiro had a strong relationship. Something in between a father-son relationship and a brotherly bond, but also somewhat morphed into a best friendship. They were biologically cousins, but sometimes it even seemed more like Shiro was Keith’s uncle. Maybe Shiro was a mentor instead? Kinship. The word Allura was looking for was kinship. That fit nicely. The bottom line was that Shiro was worried about Keith, even though he didn’t show it.

Coran was worried about Keith too, especially since he always did consider Keith to be like family. Probably because Keith was family. Blood didn’t matter. Coran cared about Keith just as much as any of them. He was hoping that Keith would come home too.

Just then, Coran came back around the corner carrying the newspaper from off the front step. Allura smiled kindly at him, seeing the discomfort in his expression as he noticed the drag of Allura’s eyelids. She had tried to cover up her eye bags as best she could, but it probably wasn’t as successful as her tired mind had convinced her it was. Still, Coran didn’t say anything, just gave her a sympathetic look and handed off the paper before disappearing back into the kitchen again.

Allura sighed once he was gone. Her entire mind felt foggy and muddled. It was difficult to sleep with how worried she was. She needed a break. This morning, she would have one. Keith wasn’t going to be found if she wasn’t at her best, so just for one morning, she was going to relax, have some tea, and read the newspaper. With that thought in mind, Allura took a slow and deep breath, then released it gently. She flipped the paper around to read the front-page news.

And she nearly choked on her tea. She paused. Her eyes widened and a hot dread washed over her. _“Shiro!”_ she suddenly hollered. _“Shiro!”_

There, on the very first page of the newspaper, taking up nearly the entirety of the space available, was a picture of Keith. Except, it was a crude drawing, a snarling and viscous rendition of what Keith really was. His entire face was distorted and made to look truly monstrous, but he was still identifiable as Keith Kogane. Above his picture was a heading in bold; HAVE YOU SEEN THIS DEMON? $5000 FOR PHOTO.

 

◊ ◊ ◊

 

Lotor hurried along the marble floor, his footsteps echoing loudly over the high ceilings. He held himself powerfully and exuded confidence with every step. His chest was puffed out, making him even taller than he was, which really wasn’t needed considering he already towered over nearly everyone in city hall. Everyone, except his father, Zarkon.

“Father!” Lotor called out, quickly catching up to the man in question. A copy of the mornings paper was already in his father’s hands, so surely, he had seen the front cover. Lotor smiled self-assuredly in greeting, attempting to quell his anticipation at his father’s reaction.

“Dammit, Lotor,” Zarkon hissed, roughly folding the paper in half and hiding the cover. “What is the meaning of this?”

Lotor frowned, “They all think I’m insane.”

His father paused his heavyset steps to stare at Lotor. Zarkon had always had a vey impassive face, as if none of the muscles in his skin had ever been used for an emotion before. Lotor often wondered if that was a neurological issue that he needed to get checked out, but he never spoke a word about it. That fact wasn’t helped by how stocky his father was. At first glance, one would be intimidated enough by how wide-set and bulky Zarkon was, but upon closer inspection, it was noticeable that most of his body was muscle. On top of being tall, Zarkon was a brick wall of a man in every sense of the word. Even being near him, one would be able to feel the cold aura that practically leaked out of his every pore. He had power in his very being, and it wasn’t just for show. Lotor had seen him make people disappear before.

Still, Lotor didn’t back down when his father turned his cold, impenetrable glare on him. “And this will help them think you’re not insane? How, exactly?” his deep voice rumbled.

Lotor attempted to regain his composure. He wanted to yell and get in his father’s face until the man understood, but that wasn’t going to help anything. Instead, he sniffed harshly and raised an unimpressed eyebrow. “The general public doesn’t know that that _beast_ is out there, and unless they know that I was right all along, then people will get injured. Worse, maybe, they may be killed,” he reasoned.

“You are ruining my name as you drag yours through the mud. Learn to have some dignity,” Zarkon spat.

Lotor practically snarled at that. “Try to remember I’m your son.”

“That’s exactly what I’m trying to forget.” Zarkon slammed the newspaper into Lotor’s chest, letting him take it, then stalking off to some other part of city hall and leaving Lotor to watch him go.

Lotor’s blood boiled in his veins as he crinkled the paper in his clenched fists. His father would see soon enough, and that was the only thing that kept him from shouting after the man. Instead, Lotor fixed his tie and marched off in the other direction.

 

◊ ◊ ◊

 

Lance watched Keith fit his hat over top of his ears, shoving some of the stray hairs to the back and flattening them down. He wasn’t going to lie, Lance was a little bit disappointed. He liked Keith’s ears due to how expressive they were.

Keith’s face didn’t give a whole lot away. He always looked a little bit angry, even when he wasn’t angry at all. It was probably his intense eyebrows, which Lance also loved. Keith also had a lot of walls up, Lance could tell. It was from all the years he had spent behind actual walls, being told he was something to be feared. Those walls that bordered Keith’s true thoughts and feelings only furthered how closed off his expressions were. So, when his ears flicked this way and tilted that way, it was a lot easier to tell what Keith was actually thinking. Lance hoped that one day he would understand Keith enough that he wouldn’t need to use his ears as a tell.

Speaking of Keith’s deadpan face, he was currently covering up his lightning eyes with the same pair of tinted glasses as the day before. He looked badass in those. Lance honestly found Keith’s eyes a little bit unnerving, especially at first. If Lance hadn’t met Keith the person before he saw him, then he probably would have run away just like all the others just due to those eyes alone. There was something truly disturbing about staring into someone’s eyes and having nothing to latch onto, no idea where their gaze was or what it meant. That, however, didn’t perturb Lance in the slightest. Slowly but surely, Lance was learning to look past the little detail, and even, to find comfort in it at times. There was something beautiful glistening in that strong stare and it drew Lance in.

Once Keith had his glasses on, he stepped back from the mirror to give himself a once over. His eyebrows shifted.

“You look sexy, alright? Let’s go already,” Lance told him, wrapping his arms around Keith’s waist and resting his chin on Keith’s shoulder.

Keith released an irritated huff. “The point isn’t to look sexy,” Keith reminded him. He crossed his arms over his chest as he scrutinized his appearance.

“Oh, so that’s just natural. Gotcha,” Lance teased. He tilted his head to the side and kissed Keith’s cheek right above the bandage covering the spot on his jaw.

A light blush flourished over Keith’s skin, but he pressed on as if his pearly hue didn’t completely give him away. “Lance, I’m serious. This is to make sure no one can… y’know, tell…” Feet shuffled across the carpet and shoulders tightened. Keith tried his best to seem unbothered by his own words, but this was one of the things that Lance didn’t need to read his face to understand.

“Keith,” he determinedly opened, “you’re beautiful. I’ll tell you until you listen to me that you–”

“I am listening, Lance.”

“No, you hear me with your giant, gorgeous ears, but you’re not listening to me,” Lance corrected. Keith clicked his tongue when Lance commented on his ears, but he didn’t interrupt again. “You are not a monster. I know how you see yourself, but that’s not what’s really there. You are so much more than what’s in the mirror and you don’t have anything about you that needs fixing. Well, except for this hairstyle,” Lance reached one of his hands back to fluff at Keith’s mullet, causing Keith to squawk and try to escape Lance’s hold, but he held on tight.

“Okay! Enough of that!” Keith swatted at the hand in his hair.

The arm returned to Keith’s middle, wrapping him up again. “I’m kidding!” Lance snickered, burying his face into Keith’s neck. He kissed Keith’s neck and rocked him back and forth.

It jarred Keith’s feet out of place and the two of them nearly fell. “Lance!” Keith stumbled around, but Lance continued to do it until Keith stopped fighting him and just hung on. The two of them were both giggling and laughing together.

Lance paused his rocking then to point excitedly at the mirror. “There!”

Keith followed his gaze, confused. “What?” he asked, still grinning and tittering.

Carefully, so as not to startle Keith’s happiness away, Lance reached up and pulled off the glasses that were covering Keith’s eyes, then slipped off the hat that caged his ears. “Look at that,” Lance whispered, completely thrilled, as if he had just discovered the treasure of a lifetime. Keith smiled into the mirror. Lance wasn’t sure if Keith was looking at himself or not, but he hoped that he was. His golden eyes were lit up with true joy and his ears were pointed to the sky, unable to contain themselves. “That’s your beauty,” Lance hummed.

Keith didn’t speak. His smile morphed from a humorous one to a fond one. They stood in front of the mirror with Lance’s arms still around Keith’s waist, the beanie in one hand and the glasses in the other. Finally, after a breath, Keith turned his head and kissed Lance’s cheek. “Thank you,” he breathed into Lance’s skin. It soaked deep into Lance’s heart and he secretly hoped that Keith would one day see what Lance saw.

Keith took the beanie and sunglasses from Lance’s hands and replaced them back on his head just as he had originally. “Let’s go,” he stated. Lance wasn’t about to argue this time. He still wanted to show Keith the town.

So, after slipping his hand into Keith’s and twining their fingers comfortably together, they exited the room and locked the door behind them. The two of them hurried down the stairs with matching smiles.

“Alright! So, today, I wanted to take you down Olkarion Street. I think you’ll love it! There are all sorts of shops and stores that you could never find anywhere else. There’s this one place that sells candy, but it’s unbelievable! They have everything you could ever think of there! Oh! We also have to check out the little plant store near the end. I don’t know if you’re a plant person or not, but you will be after you see that place, I’m telling you!” Lance rambled excitedly the entire way down the stairs, using his free hand to emphasize the grandeur of his words.

Keith smiled along seemingly just as excited as Lance was, albeit internally. He had his head cocked to the side to listen to everything that Lance said as they descended the stairs and passed through the lobby on their way out the front doors. Just as they were about to exit the building, Keith stopped.

“–That’s where all the best model airplanes are sold and– Hey, what’s wrong?” Lance paused with Keith. He kind of had to since their hands were connected. Keith wasn’t looking at him though. Beneath those glasses, Keith’s eyes seemed to be transfixed on something else and his mouth dropped open minutely as if he were trying to speak but couldn’t find the words. Following his gaze, Lance found the newspaper stand. He nearly gasped from shock.

The front page of the newspaper had Keith. Except, it wasn’t Keith. It was a disgusting depiction of everything that Keith wasn’t. It was also probably the embodiment that Keith saw within himself. Lance’s heart clenched in anger, as did his hand. Keith glanced back to look at Lance, completely stunned. Before either of them could say anything, Lance released Keith’s hand and marched forward, disregarding all the people who were in the lobby to see what he was about to do. With enough force to jiggle the newspaper stand, Lance ripped the front page clean off the stack of paper. He balled it up in his hands and jammed it into his pocket, then moved in as close to Keith as he could, blocking his view of the stand altogether.

“That’s not what you look like,” Lance muttered into Keith’s temple as he reattached their hands and slid up beside him.

“Lance–” Keith went to say.

Lance didn’t let him finish the sentence. “No, listen,” he whispered. “You’re beautiful.”

Keith stared up at Lance, his eyes still obscured by his glasses. Lance tried his best to meet his gaze. He squeezed Keith’s hand reassuringly and a natural smile spread over his face. There was a tense moment of silence. Keith then snorted and mumbled out, “You didn’t have to destroy that paper.”

Lance huffed out a laugh, “C’mon, let’s go before someone notices.”

Together, they stumbled out of the building while laughing about what Lance had just done, even though, internally, Lance wasn’t laughing all that much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, I swear I'm not ignoring all y'all in the comments, I read and appreciate every single one, but today's my last day of high school ever and then I have diplomas. I've just got so much I have to prepare for. I haven't even started writing my next fic, which is something I always do when I start posting one I've already written. It's stressing me out a bit. But thank you for all your comments and thank you for staying with this fic!


	15. Trying to Push This Problem up the Hill

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope y'all're having a good day, I'm having a good day. Maybe this will make your day better? I don't know. Good days all around, that's what I hope for.

Shiro flicked the blinds down to stare outside patiently. There was no one on the street. It wasn’t that he exactly expected to see anyone, and certainly not the boy he was waiting for, but that didn’t stop him from nervously checking every so often. He dropped the blinds again and turned back around to the two men who were standing in the dining room. Allura was seated at the dining table with her hand pressed into her forehead. She was stressed, just as stressed as Shiro himself.

Officer Thace and Officer Ulaz from the police force were some of the best, that was what Shiro had been told when he had called the police station. Shiro and Allura were at their wits end, so they intended to file a missing persons report for Keith. Currently, though, the help that Thace and Ulaz were offering was not really helping in Shiro’s opinion.

Already, Shiro was getting completely frustrated with how long it was taking to file this report. Why was it such an operation? Why weren’t they out there looking for Keith instead of asking ridiculous questions? Shiro had to really force himself to calm down.

“Alright, that is it. I’ll just need some recent pictures,” Thace concluded, tapping his pencil against his notepad. Ulaz watched on silently.

“No pictures,” Allura answered.

There was a pause of silence. “No pictures?” Thace echoed back.

“None whatsoever?” Ulaz piped up, his eyebrows furrowing together.

Allura’s smile pulled tighter, strained and awkward as she replied, “No, we, uh… The fire… got them…” She tried to her best to appear as if that fake memory pained her, but Shiro squinted in confusion, probably giving her away.

That wasn’t a complete lie. There was no fire that burned all the pictures to ash, there just weren’t any pictures to begin with. Keith’s parents, Krolia and Akira, had never wanted to take pictures of Keith. Shiro’s father never wanted to take pictures of Keith. Allura and Shiro had never wanted to take pictures of Keith. And eventually, after years of explaining to Keith why there couldn’t be pictures of himself anywhere in the house, or anywhere in existence at all, Keith, too, had stopped wanting pictures of himself. Shiro often wondered if that was the wrong decision, but it was too late now. There was never a picture of Keith, and there would never be one as long as Allura and Shiro could help it. Keith’s wedding day, when the curse was finally lifted and Keith transformed into the beautiful young man that he was always meant to be, that would be the very first time a picture would ever be taken of Keith, that was what Shiro hoped.

So, it wasn’t a lie. There were no photos.

Ulaz’s eyes narrowed in at Shiro and Thace nodded slowly. “Right…” Thace muttered. “Then we’ll need a detailed description.”

Allura brightened, “Certainly… He has black hair.”

Thace hesitantly wrote that down, humming in affirmation that he had written it down.

“It’s a mullet,” she added.

There was a pause in Thace’s handwriting, but he quickly scribbled that down as well. “Okay…” There was trepidation in his voice.

“He’s about as tall as me,” she described.

Ulaz furrowed his eyebrows and Thace blinked at her. “Is there anything _useful_ that you can tell me?” he passive-aggressively asked.

Allura gave an innocent tilt of the head. “Is that not useful?” she checked, already completely aware of how unhelpful her information had been. Shiro could feel himself sighing internally.

“You have given us nothing to go off of!” Ulaz argued. “No photographs, no friends, no jobs, no hangouts, nothing!” He raised himself up, both literally and figuratively, asserting himself with the power of his voice alone.

Before anyone else could make it worse and escalate everything, Shiro grabbed the morning paper off the table where it had been haphazardly tossed face-down that same morning. He flipped it around and smoothed it out before approaching the two officers. “He’s like this, but less threatening,” Shiro told them, displaying the picture on the front cover out towards him.

Allura stood up immediately and smacked Shiro across the upper arm. “Shiro!” she cried, indignant.

“Do you want to find him or not?!” Shiro shouted back. He was usually a calm man who never yelled about anything, but this was a serious matter and he couldn’t stand around knowing that Keith was out there and police weren’t able to help find him because they were withholding information.

“You know what?” Allura suddenly said, throwing her hands up in the air and turning to address the officers. Ulaz was still studying the picture in the newspaper. “We’ll just pay you and then you can be on your way, okay?” With a smile, she turned back to the table where Shiro had left his wallet. She rummaged through it, looking for something but coming up empty. A trouble expression crossed her face. “Dear, where’s your credit card?”

Shiro frowned. “Is it not in there?” He hadn’t exactly been buying anything recently, so it wasn’t as though he had forgotten it somewhere, nor had he even noticed it was missing at all.

Allura shook her head. “It’s not, but I can’t think of where else you would have– Oh my gosh,” she frantically whispered, cutting herself off. “Keith must have taken it.”

Shiro’s eyes widened as all the pieces clicked into place.

“Less threatening… Are you sure…?” Thace spoke up abruptly.

Allura and Shiro momentarily forgot about the wallet and turned to meet his skeptical stare.

“There is no way to make this less threatening,” Ulaz commented as he leaned away from the picture again.

Allura exploded then, frustrated and powerless to find Keith, “How is any of this helpful?! You should be out there looking for Keith! He doesn’t know anything about the city, he’s never been anywhere outside the house before! He could be getting mugged or stabbed somewhere in a back alley! What if something worse has happened already? Keith is out there; lost and afraid!”

 

◊ ◊ ◊

 

Keith practically raced out of the store at lightning speed, his entire face flushed red. It was such a prominent and bright red that not even the glasses, beanie, and bandages could help cover up Keith’s intense blush.

“Find everything you need?” Lance snickered as soon as Keith was outside.

Keith didn’t waste any of his breath in answering that as he grabbed Lance’s hand and yanked him away. “I trusted you,” he muttered when they were far enough away.

“Hey, you wanted to check it out. Who am I to stop you?” Lance told him, still grinning from ear to ear.

Pausing, Keith whipped around, his face was still on fire but he hoped that it wouldn’t lessen the impact of his words as he hissed, “That was a sex shop! I wandered into a sex shop!”

Lance snorted, unable to hide his obvious amusement. “I know what it was, Keith. You’re an adult. You’re allowed to wander in.” Lance’s grin only grew as he forced his high-pitched, giggly words out.

Keith’s eyebrows lowered slowly, his expression scrunching up with embarrassed anger. “There was a wall of chains and things,” he whispered as forcefully as he could.

Laughter tumbled out of Lance’s lips until he was just standing cackling in the street. Keith’s shoulders tensed up and he crossed his arms over his chest, trying his best to push down the rising shame in his chest. Lance was just wheezing and curling into himself.

“It’s not funny!” Keith added.

Finally, Lance straightened himself out and beamed at Keith, his cheeks painfully pulled from how amused he was. Tears glimmered in his eyes, not ready to fall, but close to it. He reached out to pull Keith’s hands away from his chest. Keith, being as weak as he was for Lance, didn’t fight it and complied easily as Lance slipped their hands together. “It’s hilarious, actually,” he simpered. “The dildos aren’t gonna bite you, Keith, I promise.” Lance jokingly bopped his nose into Keith’s, still tittering away.

Keith couldn’t help but smile, even though the image of man-eating dildos was suddenly entrenched in his mind.

 

◊ ◊ ◊

 

At first, it had been an entire brouhaha having to deal with Shiro’s missing credit card. Not only was Keith out there, but he was out there with complete access to Shiro’s bank account. On one hand, that was good, it meant that Keith had money to look after himself and he wasn’t just bumming around, lost and confused. On the other hand, it meant that Keith could spend it on whatever he wanted, and while Allura and Shiro had never deprived him of anything he desired in the past, there were many shops along the city streets that Keith could easily be swindled into buying from. Keith was smart, but he wasn’t street smart.

It had been an entire debate about canceling the credit card so that Keith wouldn’t have money and would be forced to return home or leaving it up so that Keith wouldn’t die on the streets. And that was when a genius idea had hit Allura. Check the purchases. It was truly baffling why no one had thought about that before, not even the police, but they could just simply check Shiro’s bank history and see what Keith had been buying. It didn’t matter what he was buying though, not so much as it mattered that there had to be a hotel purchase somewhere on that list. Keith had to be staying somewhere at night.

So, in the grand hunt to find Keith and bring him home, Allura, Shiro, Officer Thace, and Officer Ulaz all headed down to the Castle of Lions Hotel. The only hotel that was on Keith’s list of purchases since he had fled with Shiro’s card. It was a beautiful place with nice décor. Allura wasn’t impressed by it, but for a hotel, it was quite nice. She wasn’t focused on the way it had been made up, however, because she was busy marching up to the front desk with Shiro and the officers on her tail.

The man working the desk seemed rightfully startled by their approach, and he wasn’t comforted in the least when Allura began railing into him. “Excuse me,” Allura greeted, although it wasn’t so much a greeting as it was a warning for the man to cooperate, “is there anyone staying here under the name Takashi Shirogane?”

After a brief moment to gather himself and put on a pleasant smile, he spoke, “Let me check,” then tapped away at his computer. “Yes, there is,” he replied.

Allura sighed in relief at that. After so many weeks of Keith being missing and they were so close to him that Allura could practically taste it. He had been there, at that hotel, and he was likely to return. Allura just had to find him. “Wonderful! What room number is that?” she smiled. There was a tint in her eye that gave away the desperation she was feeling.

The man gave her an apologetic smile back. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but we cannot release personal information about our guests.”

Allura’s eye twitched. “I don’t think you understand,” she stated, as calmly as she was able. “That boy is in my care and I need to find him.”

“I still can’t release information. My apologies,” the man gently repeated. Allura truly did believe he was sorry, but she wasn’t about to let up.

“No, that information is mine, actually, because that is my card he’s using!” she angrily reiterated.

At her side, Shiro leaped in, “It’s my card, actually. I’m Takashi Shirogane."

The man looked conflicted and he was visibly uncomfortable with the situation. “There’s not much I can do, I’m sorry.”

“He is our responsibility! We are his guardians! He is using a card under our name! How is there nothing you can do?!” Allura hollered.

Shiro placed a hand on her shoulder, a show of support and also to subtly tell her she needed to calm down before she got herself too riled up. She appreciated the gesture.

“I can get the manager, if you’d like?” the poor employee asked, unsure what else there was that he would be able to do.

“You can tell me the room number he’s staying in! That’s what you can do!” Allura demanded hastily, her eyes blown wide as she stared the man down.

Suddenly, to the right of Allura, Officer Ulaz was also yelling, except not at the man running the desk. “Hey, you two, come here for a moment,” he called out.

Officer Thace was moving purposefully across the lobby toward the staircase at the other end of it. “We just want to ask you a few questions,” he added. Those words were never a comfort.

Allura and Shiro both whipped around to see who the officers were yelling at. They watched as a young man with a beanie, glasses, red leather jacket, a backpack rapidly rushed up the stairs, closely followed by a young man with messy brown hair and a frantic look in his wild blue eyes. Those same eyes that briefly met Allura’s for half a second. She could see as they filled with fear.

“Lance!” Allura gasped out.

Said boy yelped at the sound of his name and began shoving the other man – it had to be Keith – upstairs faster. They were both sprinting at that point, skipping steps in their hurried attempt to get away.

“Wait!” Shiro cried.

“Stop right there!” Ulaz bellowed.

All four of them were bolting across the lobby and after the two boys. Lance was shrieking the entire time and Keith urged him to hurry the hell up in his gruff voice. A voice that Allura honestly missed hearing. The boys had a head start and were able to race down the hall to their room. Allura could see them, Keith with his key already out and being jammed into the lock.

“Keith, stop running!” Allura shouted. That only made Keith move faster. Allura pounded down the hallway, flanked by Shiro and the officers. All at once, the door gave way to Keith. She watched as Keith slipped inside, dragging Lance along with him, although he didn’t have to be asked twice. The door slammed closed right as Allura reached it and she found herself crashing into it. Her fists instantly began beating on the door. “Keith?! Keith, please! Open this door!” she cried out.

There was no response.

“Stand aside,” Ulaz instructed.

Allura almost didn’t obey, but finally yielded as Ulaz seemed about ready to shove her out of the way. He raised his foot before smashing it into the wood of the door right below the handle. He quickly pulled back before kicking into it again. This time, the door gave way, slamming into the wall on the other side. Ulaz rushed inside. Allura didn’t waste a second, immediately following his lead.

The room was empty. Even the bathroom wasn’t being barricaded by two panicking boys on the other side. Well, that wasn’t true. It wasn’t empty. There was clear evidence that someone, or rather, two someones had been living in the hotel room for quite awhile. There was everything from clothes to games to movies to hygiene products. There weren’t any people, though, and that was the real issue. However, at the far side of the room, along the wall with the fantastic view of the city, there was a window. The window was open, a warm breeze fluttering the curtains and drawing attention to it.

Allura jogged over to it so she could stick her head outside. At the bottom of the street, Allura could see just as Lance leaped off the last section of the fire escape, landing in a crouch. Keith, who was already standing on the sidewalk, helped Lance to his feet, glanced up at Allura, and then bolted away while pulling Lance by the hand. “Keith! Keith, come back! I’m serious, Keith! Keith?!” Allura screeched. They were long gone though. It was just her, yelling out a window. People across the street were staring at her. She pulled her head back into the room.

“They got away,” Shiro stated simply, an air of frustration about him. Hunting Keith was a lot harder than Allura thought it was going to be and this just made it harder.

 

◊ ◊ ◊

 

“They found us! I can’t believe they found us!” Lance wheezed as he finally stopped running for once.

Keith was panting across from him and glancing back around the brick wall which kept them hidden from the rest of the street. “I can’t believe they broke down the hotel door,” Keith added.

Lance laughed a little bit, although it came out weakly as he struggled to regain his breath. “Yeah, they did, didn’t they? They’re really desperate to find you, wow,” Lance commented.

“How did they even find us?” Keith growled. He crossed his arms over his chest and frowned at the cement.

“Credit card, maybe? Tracked its purchases,” Lance suggested as he straightened himself out. His back bent until he popped his spine, then he released a content sigh and relaxed once more.

Keith pulled the card out of his pocket where he had been keeping it. “I hadn’t even thought about that,” he mumbled. “We can’t use this anymore.”

Lance raised an eyebrow. “Then how’re we going to pay for anything?”

Keith’s pensive look only intensified as he thought about it. “We’ll have to make money a different way. Jobs give you money,” he decided.

Lance huffed out another laugh. “Jobs give you money, yeah, but not enough that you can just go rent a hotel. You have to save up for that, and that’s going to be difficult on a minimum wage salary. Even if we could find someone to hire us, we still need money to eat and clothe ourselves until we start getting money from the job.” Lance wanted to take a nap after listing out all the things they would have to do.

With a grumble, Keith conceded, “Alright, no jobs.” Then, his eyes lit up beneath his glasses and Lance noticed the boy’s ears point upwards, even as they were covered by his hat.

“You got something?” Lance asked, moving closer to Keith and grabbing one of his hands. It was becoming a habit of his to just grab Keith’s hands randomly. Keith never seemed to mind.

“Yes,” Keith replied ominously, his smile growing large enough that his fangs became obvious. He dropped Lance’s hand in order to move even closer and started unzipping Lance’s jacket.

Lance, rightfully startled, lifted his hands in a mock surrender. “Whoa, hey! Not that I’m against this or anything, but in a back alley?” Lance joked.

Keith rolled his eyes, but Lance saw the flick of his lips in a small, somewhat amused half-smile. “Get your mind out of the gutter. I’m grabbing– Aha!” Keith successfully reached into one of Lance’s inside pockets and retrieved a crumpled-up sheet of paper. Quickly, he unfolded it and smoothed it out against the brick wall beside him as best he could. It was the front page of the newspaper that Lance had ripped out. And there at the top, it still read; HAVE YOU SEEN THIS DEMON? $5000 FOR PHOTO. Who didn’t want $5000? Especially when it was so easy to get. Keith smirked.


	16. Sell Your Soul, Not Your Whole Self

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys, today, on this very day, marks exactly one year since I posted the very first chapter of my very first fic, The Boy from the Other Side! It has been a year since I started writing already, wow. How exciting. I really like doing this, and it's because of all the people like you who read my work, so thanks!  
> Enough gushing, on with the story!!

Acxa tapped her foot against the table in front of her. She pulled it back, stretching the muscles in her ankle. Once more, she released her foot, letting it smack against the desk. And repeat. And repeat. Her eyes trailed from one of the phones on the desk to the other. She had been waiting for a call for some time. Days, actually. There were no calls. Acxa was beginning to wonder if Keith had really escaped at all, because there was no way that no one had seen him, especially after creating that wanted poster, which alerted everyone to Keith’s existence and offered a large sum of money for a picture.

Lotor was on the other end of the room, just pacing back and forth. It was making Acxa nervous every time Lotor would get to the end of the room nearest to her and swirl around violently on his heel before marching back the other way. She wished he would leave the room or just sit down, something, anything. She glared searing holes into the back of his head when he was faced away from her, willing him to halt his motions, but it never worked.

She tapped her foot once more, wondering if Lotor was as bothered by her foot tapping as she was by his pacing.

A ringing. Acxa bolted upright in her seat and Lotor whipped around to face the desk properly. One of the two phones on the desk was ringing with an incoming call from an unknown number. Without even hesitating enough to give Acxa a chance to pick the phone up, Lotor dashed across the room and lunged for it. He slapped the answer button at lightning speed and held it up to his ear.

“Hello?” Lotor greeted, sounding somewhat desperate, but not enough that anyone on the other line would fully notice. He adjusted his suit collar unconsciously. “That’s right. Is this… Keith?” Lotor asked, one of his eyebrows raising up as he came to his realization. Acxa shifted in her seat, an attempt to better hear the other half of the conversation. Lotor’s eyes widened in panic and he abruptly ripped the phone away from his head to slam his finger into the end call button.

There was silence in the room for a moment as they both just stared at each other, Lotor in shock and Acxa in bewilderment. You could have heard a pin drop in the quiet that followed the phone conversation.

“That was Keith…” Lotor told Acxa, still not quite believing the words that were coming out of his own mouth. “He wanted to sell his own picture…”

Acxa paused to breathe and close her eyes as anger spiked in her chest. She ran her tongue slowly across her teeth as she tried to calm herself down. In choppy movements, Acxa nodded her head in understanding. She took another deep breath, then let it out as a harsh laugh. “Sell his own picture…?” she echoed. “Right, so… uh… _why the fuck did you hang up?!”_ she hollered, her voice cracking and spit flying from her mouth a little bit.

Lotor flinched back, but ultimately just looked angrier. He was about to shout something back at her, probably about how much of a monster Keith was, but he was cut off by a shrill ring cutting through the room again. They both looked to the phone. This time, Acxa picked it up, furiously slapping Lotor’s grabby little hands away when they went to try that shit again. Acxa took a breath, forced a smile onto her face, and answered.

“Keith!” she greeted.

A gruff voice grunted into the receiver, _“How did you know it was me?”_

Acxa had never heard his voice before. That was all part of the reason that Keith Kogane felt like such a mythical creature to Acxa. Yet, here she was, speaking to him. For the first time in twenty years she was speaking to him. And oddly, Keith didn’t sound anything different from any other person on the street. She wouldn’t have been able to tell that there was anything wrong with this man if she hadn’t known who it was beforehand.

“A lucky guess, you could say,” Acxa replied, basically dodging the question entirely. “So, you have something that you want to sell us?”

 _“That’s right,”_ Keith curtly confirmed. He wasn’t much of a talker, it seemed.

Acxa’s eyebrows furrowed. “Why are you doing this?” she asked. If he was going to be curt, she was going to be just as curt right back.

That seemed to set Keith off. _“Why the fuck do you care?! You’re getting your freak!”_ Keith snapped.

“Nobody said you were a freak, Keith.” Acxa raised a hand placatingly, even though Keith couldn’t actually see it. She watched Lotor make a move to argue with her words but she glared at him, effectively halting anything that might have hacked its way up his throat.

 _“Whatever. Do you want the picture or not?”_ Keith didn’t sound like he was in the mood for this conversation at all.

“Yes, I would,” Acxa asserted.

Keith began listing off the details of the place where she would have to meet for the photos, along with a time that was appropriate. Under the bridge near the waterway in the dead of night, completely alone. Everything about it was sketchy. Had Acxa not been as desperate as she was, then maybe she would have considered that this was dangerous and not worth it. Except, after chasing a story for twenty years, Acxa had started to learn that anything was worth it. She scribbled down the details that Keith told her on a little pad of paper, a smirk growing on her face the entire time. Nothing could deter her happiness, not even Lotor’s intruding snout poking in over her shoulder to read what she was writing, not even that.

 

◊ ◊ ◊

 

Honestly, Lance wasn’t going to say it aloud, but this was probably Keith’s best idea since he had met the guy. In the interest of not scaring Keith or freaking him out with the possibilities, Lance was choosing not to focus too hard on the fact that Keith was about to hand his picture over to a news website, but all he could think about was the fact that the world was going to see what Keith looked like. There were going to be people who were scared by his appearance, but there were going to be many more people that accepted Keith as he was and weren’t scared away. That was what Lance was excited about. He wanted Keith to understand just how beautiful he truly was. Keith being alright with showing his picture to the news seemed like a step in the right direction to Lance.

It also meant that he got to watch Keith attempt to work a photo booth for the first time in his life. He could tell that Keith was getting frustrated though, just by the pinch in his eyebrows and the set of his jaw.

“Do you need some help?” Lance asked, tilting his head to meet Keith’s eye.

“No,” Keith barked.

Lance snickered and watched as Keith angrily pressed the buttons to purchase one set of photos. “That button,” Lance instructed over Keith’s shoulder, pointing to the button next to Keith’s finger.

Keith begrudgingly pressed it, bringing up the screen for paying. He finished the transaction without anymore hassle, then glanced at Lance hesitantly out of the corner of his eye. “Thanks,” he mumbled.

Lance pressed a kiss into Keith’s cheek. “Of course,” he cooed. “C’mon, time for your photo shoot!” Lance pulled away to rip the beanie and glasses off Keith’s head and face as quick as he could. Smoothly, he removed the bandage, making Keith flinch. Then, he grabbed Keith’s hand and pushed him into the photo booth. Keith grunted, not entirely ready for any of it, but he stepped past the curtain and into the booth without much complaint anyway.

“Wait, what do I do?” Keith asked from the other side of the blue curtain. Lance was about to explain, but before he could, there was an abrupt bright light along with a click from within. “Fuck,” Keith hissed, not ready for the suddenness of the light.

Lance snorted, “It’s going to take another one. You have to pose.”

There was silence, then another loud click and a flash of light. Lance would just hope that Keith had posed and taken a good picture on the first try, because he didn’t wait another second before he yanked the curtain aside and dove into the booth next to Keith. “Lance!” Keith exclaimed.

“Scoot over!” Lance giggled. He bumped into Keith, jostling him around and causing him to start laughing at the ridiculousness of it all.

“You’re going to shove me out the other side,” Keith complained, laughter clear in his voice. Keith’s ears pointed to the ceiling, displaying just how excited and happy he was. The two sharper fangs became visible as a grin spread across Keith’s face. His goldenrod eyes shined like the sun. Lance was lovestruck just staring at him, even in the shitty lighting of the photo booth. His rich laugh caused Lance’s heart to beat a little faster. The way his bangs bounced in front of his face and tickled his nose, shielding his face as he lost his composure was enough for Lance to feel that irresistible urge to kiss Keith senseless all over again.

A flash of light cut through Lance’s lovesick thoughts. He suddenly remembered just where they were and just what they were doing. Keith seemed to be in the same sort of daze, lost to the moment happening between them rather than the camera that was counting down. They both huffed out another laugh before properly posing together, genuine and bright smiles on both of their faces. The camera clicked once more and they were again blinded by the light.

That was it. They were out of pictures. The screen told them to pick up their photos on the outside. Lance scooted out of the booth to investigate the quality of the pictures while Keith readjusted his hat and his glasses along with the bandage that didn’t quite have the same stickiness as before.

Lance excitedly grabbed the little scroll of four pictures all together. They had turned out wonderful and Lance couldn’t help his laughter, even as he tried to stifle it. The curtain at his side flung open, revealing a suspicious Keith.

“What’re you laughing at?” Keith asked, his eyes narrowing.

“Look at this first one,” Lance pointed to the top photo where Keith was squinting at the screen that was taking the picture, completely confused, his mouth half open as he was about to ask Lance another question. One of his ears was flattened and off to the side while the other was upright and turned toward the outside world. It was goofy. Lance cackled at it some more. The longer he stared at it, the funnier it was.

Keith harrumphed, “I didn’t know it was going to take the picture right then!”

Lance smiled over at Keith through his laughter, “That’s what makes it so great! Here, look, the others are perfect too.” Lance positioned the photos so that Keith could clearly see them as he pressed his entire body into Lance’s shoulder.

The second picture was Keith smiling, although it was a forced smile, an awkward and unsure smile. Lance could see the insecurity that was written across Keith’s face, dulling the glimmer in his eyes, and tensing his ears. It was still a nice photo, but it wasn’t natural.

Below that one, there was a picture of Lance and Keith, both staring at each other and laughing. Keith was infinitely more beautiful in that one than in the other two, and it was clear that Lance thought that just by the look of love on his face. All the fun and affection that Lance had felt in that moment was perfectly reflected in the picture. Lance wanted to hold onto that one.

He also wanted to keep the one at the bottom. It was a loving couple picture. The two boys in the photo cared about each other and enjoyed the company they were in. Lance smiled fondly. This was the type of photo that a person would show their friends when asked about their partner, or the framed image that one kept in the hallway at their house. Lance could feel it in his soul as he stared at the collection of images, some with him, some without, all with Keith, he was going to keep them for a long time. Even if he didn’t exactly have them framed, they were something worth cherishing.

Keith hummed next to him. “Yeah… They are perfect…” he agreed wistfully. And Lance let his head drop onto Keith’s shoulder, happy and content.

“You have to sell them the first one, it’s so funny,” Lance mumbled, turning his face in toward Keith’s neck to muffle the new round of cackling that overtook him.

“Fuck off.” Keith ripped the pictures out of Lance’s hand and began to walk away, leaving his boyfriend to stumble for a moment before trying to catch up, laughing the entire way there.

 

◊ ◊ ◊

 

Wind was colder at night. That was something that anyone knew, and Keith could have guessed it if he had thought about it hard enough, the sun wasn’t in the sky at night, after all. Yet, there he was, shivering in the cold because he hadn’t gotten used to the notion that night was cold. Being locked up for some many years had really done a number on Keith.

Lance bumped his shoulder into Keith’s. “What’s wrong?”

Keith fiddled with the manila envelope in his hands, trying his best to seem like he wasn’t nervous and cold all at the same time. “Nothing,” Keith answered.

Lance’s eyebrows furrowed. Keith could feel it as Lance’s eyes raked over him, searching for a hint of what he was really feeling. Underneath his hat, Keith’s ears slowly flattened, shifting the fabric backwards. His hands were shaking as he gripped the envelope. “Are you cold?” Lance asked suspiciously.

With a frown, Keith rolled his shoulders to feel the way the leather of his jacket tugged against his muscles. “No, I’m not,” Keith defensively replied.

Lance didn’t take that answer, he was already unzipping his coat and getting ready to pull it off. “You’re not dressed for the weather, that’s why, Keith. Here, take my jacket.”

“Then you’ll be cold, don’t do that,” Keith told him. He slapped Lance’s hand away from where he was about to take his arm from the sleeve.

“Yeah, but you’re cold now,” Lance explained, raising an eyebrow.

Keith narrowed his eyes, although Lance probably couldn’t see it under the glasses. “It won’t help if we’re both cold.”

Lance considered that for a moment, his coat still half way off of him. Then, his eyebrows lowered and a grin slithered across his face, a sneaky smirk more than anything. He took a single step forward.

“Lance…” Keith warned.

Another step forward.

“I’m warning you, whatever you’re going to do, you better not.” Keith pointed the corner of his envelope at Lance as a threat for him to stay away.

Lance laughed at that, then he was lunging forward. He held the corners of his jacket outwards as if it were a cape and raced at Keith. “Get over here, Keith!”

“Never!” Keith yelled as he instantly dodged Lance’s open armed hug and raced away down the bridge top. He paused to turn around and find Lance. That was a mistake. Lance was Naruto running toward Keith at full speed, his jacket his hands and billowing out behind him. Keith guffawed but had no time to actually get out of the way again. Keith released a half-scream half-grunt as Lance bolted straight into him.

“Gotcha!” Lance cried as he wrapped his arms around Keith, effectively trapping him within the jacket. They nearly fell over, but Lance managed to catch them both and bundle up in the hoodie. “There, now we’re both warm!” Lance lovingly chirped. He swayed them both back and forth. Keith had never noticed how fuzzy the inside of Lance’s jacket was until then, but he was suddenly glad that Lance had forcefully bundled him up the way he had. And with Lance’s beaming face so close to his, lighting up even the darkest nights, what was there really to complain about?

Keith, pressed up close to Lance in the warmth of the jacket, couldn’t help but hum and press a quick kiss to Lance’s nose. “You’re so impractical,” he endearingly whispered.

Lance grinned back at Keith. “Nothing is impractical if it’s for you, babe,” he cooed.

Keith snorted and ducked his head into Lance’s collar. “That’s so lame,” he whined.

Just as Lance was about to grace Keith’s complaint with some sort of cheesy line matched with some wiggling eyebrows, the sound of footsteps alerted them both. Keith paused to listen. It was coming from the road below the bridge. His eyes trialed over to meet Lance’s. There was a question in the way Lance’s eyebrows raised, and Keith had a feeling it was the same question that Lance had. Was that the woman they were selling the pictures to?

Keith slipped out of Lance’s hold and jogged over to the edge of the bridge. Below, there was a woman with purple hair cut at an angle and a black jacket that seemed to be designed to disguise her. She had her hands in her pockets but her feet shuffled around uncomfortably. Keith couldn’t tell if that was from the cold or if she was just suspicious being out late at night to meet some guy for pictures. Still, there was a look about her face that told Keith she would be able to handle herself in the event anything strange happened.

The most important conclusion that Keith came to, however, was that that was her.

He shared a quick look with Lance, then he stared down at the folder in his hands. Earlier, Keith had stabbed a hole in the folder and threaded a string through it. This made a perfect little device that Keith could deposit the pictures into and have the money given to him, all without having to interact with that woman. Keith opened the envelope to double check that the pictures hadn’t fallen out. They hadn’t. They were there. Well, two of them were. Lance and Keith had decided that the bottom two, which both featured Lance, weren’t really needed by the press. They could keep those ones for themselves.

Keith grabbed the string and wrapped it around his fingers, then he lowered the envelope over the edge of the bridge slowly. That lady was just standing there, impatiently glancing back and forth down the trail, waiting. Eventually, the folder was low enough that it almost smacked her in the face when she spun around. She startled back, ready to punch the folder, until she realized that it wasn’t a threat. She looked up, following the string. Lance and Keith stared down at her. Out of the corner of his eye, Keith could see Lance waving down.

The woman didn’t seem impressed. She just awkwardly grasped the folder and checked inside. Her hand reached in and retrieved the photos. Afterwards, she studied them. They must have been enough because then she was stuffing them into her pocket and pulling a bundle of cash out. She shoved that into the folder, then tugged on the string enough to send the message that Keith could pull it back up.

And Keith did. Once it was at the top, Lance pulled it away from the edge to open it back up. He grinned. “We got the dough,” he snickered.

Keith rolled his eyes but laughed anyway.


	17. I Spend Too Much Time Explaining Myself

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is so late in the day, I was camping for the past four days and I didn't have any time because we were packing up and travelling back and stuff. I'm here now. Another important announcement before I let you read this is that I am going to be studying for diplomas hardcore for the next eight days. I will not be connected to my computer at all. I will not read my comments, I will not leave notes, I will not be reachable by my tumblr or email. Literally the only people who will be able to contact me are people who live in the same house as me. Complete disconnection so I can focus. These chapters will still continue as normal, but I won't reply to any comments until midday June 28th. I appreciate every comment nonetheless so leave lots anyway!! Thanks everyone!  
> Now enjoy this chapter!!
> 
> Edit: Sorry, I was moving too fast and I forgot what chapter I was supposed to be posting. Apologies.

Acxa found herself sitting in places with Lotor, waiting impatiently quite a bit. She had to ask herself why that was. It was never so irritatingly and painstakingly boring before she had met Lotor, but he managed to make everything an excruciating event. And there she was again, staring at the blown-up pictures of the infamous Keith Kogane. There were two of them. One where Keith had clearly not been ready for the camera to flash, and one where Keith had been trying to offer a nice picture of himself.

And Acxa was underwhelmed. He had large cat ears on his head like Lotor had told her. They were furry and blended in pretty well with his hair. There was nothing wrong about them though. They looked almost… natural. His eyes were yellow, which lined up with what she had been told as well. While they were somewhat unnerving to look at, they didn’t shine or glow menacingly. His eyes just… were. They just were yellow and that was it. The purple splotches on his face just looked like bruises or paint spots. If Acxa didn’t know better, she wouldn’t have had any idea they were even part of his natural skin. There was a hint of a fang in the first picture, but they weren’t even noticeable when Keith’s mouth was closed.

He didn’t look like a monster, or a freak. He wasn’t the hell spawn that Lotor had made him out to be. He wasn’t terrifying enough to justify the countless number of people who had run from the mansion screaming. He looked nothing like that sketch artist rendition that Lotor had done.

Acxa was expecting the fangs to be protruding, the purple spots to be sickly and nearly consuming his entire face, the ears to be large and threatening, and the eyes to glow. She expected something truly frightening.

Lotor stared across the desk at her, watching her reaction as she inspected the pictures. Acxa sighed heavily and slapped the picture onto her desk. “A demon…?” she asked, just in case she had heard Lotor wrong the numerous times that he had made that claim about Keith Kogane.

She was met with an affronted look, as though Lotor couldn’t possibly understand why she wasn’t shivering just from the sight of such a beast. “I beg your pardon?” he snapped.

“Lotor, he looks like a boy with a skin problem and severe Gilbert’s syndrome.” She offered him an unconvinced quirk of her lip.

Anger flashed over his face. “Are you mocking me?! Look at its ears!”

Acxa didn’t grace his ferocity with a concrete response. Instead, she moved right on to what she had wanted to bring up. “You know, Lotor… I’ve been thinking… I know and you know, and maybe that’s enough.” Her eyes bore into Lotor’s, searching for a shred of empathy or emotion that would indicate he felt bad for what they had both done, but there was nothing there.

It had been a thought that was plaguing her for awhile, but not nearly as prominently as it did now that she had the photos in her hands. After all these years, and this was what she had been chasing. He was just a normal boy who wanted to experience the world like anyone else got to. And she was just stalking him. She was making normalcy so much more difficult and invading his privacy to do it. Was this really what she had been doing for the past twenty years? Pestering someone and ruining their already difficult life? She had to ask herself how she was able to live with that knowledge, especially now that she had a face for the name and the boy wasn’t a mythical creature anymore.

Lotor, it seemed, did not share that sentiment with her. The disbelief and rage poured off him in waves. “Half the people in this city think I’m insane. Do you get that? I have to prove I am not only telling the truth, but also that they are all in terrible danger. I’m going to do this, with or without you,” he asserted. One of his hands shot out and ripped the pictures off the desk before Acxa could even react to what he was saying.

“Lotor–” Acxa called out, but he ignored her and immediately stood.

There was a moment where their eyes met. Lotor’s eyes were a bolstering fire of rage, while Acxa’s were frozen over and icy. Lotor broke away first, spinning around to march back out into the main meeting area of the news room. There were people milling about, but as Lotor entered and began shouting, all eyes were drawn towards him. “May I have your attention? Here, feast your eyes upon the demon boy! He is real! I am not making him up!” All around him, there were gasps and small huffs of surprise. Lotor only fed off the attention as he continued to talk himself up while shoving Keith’s name farther and farther into the dirt.

Acxa watched him flounce around. She sighed and swiped her hands down her face, exhausted. Looked like Keith was going to end up in the news after all. So much for the respect of others and their privacy.

 

◊ ◊ ◊

 

Keith was right there. He had been right there, right within Shiro’s grasp. If only the four of them – Shiro, Allura, and the detectives – had been just a little bit faster, just a little bit more vigilant, then Keith would be safe at home where he should be. Instead, Keith was out there, on his own, fraternizing with that hack who posed as a royal just to betray Keith’s trust. Shiro felt his hands twitch in anger at just the thought of that boy. What was his name? Lance, or something. Maybe it was Lance who was convincing Keith to run away. Shiro wouldn’t be surprised. Keith was a good kid and he wouldn’t do something like this, especially knowing just how dangerous it was. It had to have been Lance’s fault.

Shiro thought about all of this as he drank his morning coffee. Allura was across from him, shooting him concerned glances every so often. It was probably due to the force with which Shiro was gripping his cup, because it was a little bit too strong of a hold, he had to admit.

The room was silent, unnervingly so. Usually, Allura and Shiro would have something to talk about in the morning, or they would watch something on television. Those were rare cases when Keith wasn’t up and hurrying about the house, attempting to keep himself occupied for the day. He always had some crazy adventure to detail from his newest book or some plan that he needed advice on for an art piece.

This morning, however; nothing. There was only silence. It was starting to ring in Shiro’s ears, mocking him and chortling at him as he tried his hardest to remember what he normally did on mornings when Keith slept in. It was grating on him. It was grating on Allura and Coran too, he could see it in their downcast, worry-clouded eyes, and in the way they lugged themselves around the house more and more. Nobody was a fan of Keith’s absence, especially when there was no way to contact him or to make sure he was safe.

Just then, Coran made his way into the dining room. “Good morning,” he greeted cheerily, although there was a forced air about it, as if he was intending to remind them that mornings were good, even though he really didn’t believe that this morning in particular was a very good one. “I’ve brought the paper. I suggest you both read it with caution,” Coran added. He patted the newspaper onto the table with a indictive tap, gave a meaningful look to Allura, then to Shiro. Without another word, Coran exited the dining room.

Shiro didn’t like that. He furrowed his eyebrows. His eyes jumped from the door Coran had just left from, down to the paper, then over to Allura. She was staring at him with the same unsure expression, a tint of worry lining her eyes. Neither of them moved, both too weary of this strange warning from Coran.

Finally, Allura reached a tentative hand across the table and picked the paper up carefully. She flipped it over to stare at the front cover. Her eyes practically bulged out of her head the moment she took a look. “Oh my god,” she breathed. Her hand shook.

Shiro frowned and leaned farther across the table. “What is it?” he prodded. She didn’t reply, just stared up at him with horror-stricken eyes and handed the paper over to him. He grabbed it, not daring to look away from Allura’s gaze as he turned it over in his hands. Then, he took a breath and let his eyes fall to the cover of the paper.

And on the front, was Keith, once again. Only, this time, it was his actual face. There was Keith, smiling an awkward smile with his fangs completely visible. His ears were splayed out in different directions. The purple spots on his skin were completely visible and extremely noticeable, drawing your attention to them. But nothing was nearly as prominent as the solid yellow eyes that seemed to have drowned Keith’s pupil and iris, overwhelming with discomfort at having to sit in front of a camera for the first time in his life.

Shiro didn’t even register anything else. All he did was mutter out a terrified, “Shit.”

 

◊ ◊ ◊

 

Pidge was having a rough day, to say the least. What she really needed was a drink, and that was what she really wanted too, but unfortunately, she didn’t have the time. It also didn’t help that she had to drive back home later. So, drinks were off the table. The entire universe was working against her, it seemed. Still, Pidge did have a reason to be at The Kerberos Pub, a reason that wasn’t alcoholic in nature.

She slammed the door open and stepped inside, letting the warm air of the bar wash over her, ruffling her wild hair back. The package that was under her arm began to slip, but she expertly hiked it up and continued walking. Her boots clacked against the hardwood floor, but she was scarcely heard above the cheering from the people in the corner watching the football game. Luckily, since most of the patrons were huddled around the only television in the place, it meant that the bar was left wide open. Swiftly, Pidge marched her way up to the counter.

“Hey there, Hunk,” Pidge greeted the bartender, who was currently cleaning out a cup while watching a guy down the bar who was chugging his beer at lightning speed.

“Pidge!” he excitedly exclaimed, turning to her instead.

Pidge smiled brightly as she unloaded the package from beneath her arm to heave it up onto the counter. Hunk stared at it, anticipation sparking in his eyes. “Lucky you: last delivery of the day,” she told him. She slid the box farther toward him.

“Yes! I’ve been waiting for these for weeks,” Hunk breathed. He placed the cup back on the table, forgetting about it completely in favour of whatever was in the box. He suddenly looked up again. “How’re you doing?” he asked genuinely.

Pidge snorted, “You don’t want me to get into it.”

Hunk was busying himself by placing the box beneath the counter, but he was clearly still listening.

That was the thing with Hunk, even when there was no way that he could possibly be interested in what you were saying, he always was. No matter what. Hunk had a way of making everyone’s thoughts and feelings be important. It wasn’t just an act either, that was how Hunk was. Even on Pidge’s worst days when she just wanted to rant and vent all her frustrations, Hunk would never fail to be completely invested in her stories. He was great for offering an ear, advice, and a cold beer. Pidge always assumed that it was because he was a bartender and he got all types so he would have to know how to handle them, but it just turned out that that was how Hunk was anyway. It was no surprise that she quickly befriended him. He was the kind of person who you befriended before you realized you befriended them.

So, as Hunk put away his box and leaned farther across the counter with a welcoming smile, Pidge didn’t even stand a chance of keeping everything bottled up. She sighed before launching into her unfortunate story from the morning.

“I’m driving my Vespa, as usual, nothing out of the ordinary there. Then, this guy comes out of nowhere and hits me! I go flying. I’m in the street. He comes and stands over me, doesn’t offer me a hand, and he’s like, ‘I’m sorry! I’m sorry, I didn’t see you!’ How could he not see me?! I’m driving a green Vespa! I know I’m short, but I’m not that short! You can see me!” She gestured at Hunk in a worked-up rage. Hunk nodded in agreement that he could, in fact, see Pidge. “Yeah, you can see me, right?” she asked, turning to the dude who had been downing his beer when she had come in.

The guy grunted something unintelligible in response, but he was nodding.

“What?” Pidge blurted, watching the guy.

“Yeah, I can see you,” he slurred out.

“See?” Pidge stated at Hunk. He was already on board with the story, even as Pidge continued to complain about it. “That guy can see me.”

Hunk laughed, “You should sick Rover on him.” There was a mischievous glint in his eyes, one that often wasn’t there.

Pidge sighed, her shoulders slumping, “It’s too late now. Rover needs a little bit more work until he’s back online. Not sure what the problem with his mechanics is yet. I could get Matt to sock the guy though. That’ll teach him.” She pulled a sheet of paper out of her pocket, along with a pen. “You need to sign here for that package,” she reminded Hunk, handing the pen over.

He happily signed with no complaint. Once he was done, he smiled kindly at her and said, “I’ll get your usual. On the house; you deserve it.”

Pidge returned the smile, a wave of a relief washing over her as she watched him grab a mug. “Thanks, Hunk, you’re the best.”

“By the way,” Hunk added, leaning in a bit and lowering his voice, “that guy over there came in with Lance, but I’m not sure what his deal is.” They both glanced at the man out of the corner of their eyes.

Pidge looked back to Hunk. “Where’s Lance now?” she asked.

“Bathroom,” Hunk answered, nodding his head to the back of the bar. Then, he stepped away from the counter to start on Pidge’s beer.

As Hunk busied himself with making Pidge’s drink, she let her eyes wander over to the guy at the other end of the bar. There was a black beanie covering his head, although it wasn’t enough to disguise the black strands of hair that poked through at the base of his neck. His bangs were also very noticeable, framing themselves nicely around his jawline and over the enormous, yellow tinted sunglasses that covered his eyes. He was also wearing a lot bandages all over his face, along with a shoddy attempt to cover a mark on his neck with makeup. It was a deep purple. A bruise? Perhaps, a hickey? The guy also wore some pretty conspicuous clothing, even though that was clearly not the intention. His red leather jacket and black skinny jeans were noticeable from a mile away.

Pidge narrowed her eyes in suspicion. Lance wasn’t one to bring in weird guys off the street. Sure, he hit on people freely and openly, and sometimes they even reciprocated, but Lance never actually _brought_ them anywhere. Not formally. If you could even call inviting someone to a bar formal. That was probably pretty formal by Lance standard though, considering the types of places he hung out. She made a decision then. The chair next to the guy was empty, so she sauntered up and plopped down next to him on the barstool. “So, what?” she opened. He turned to her, his glasses obscuring his eyes and making it difficult to read him. “Are you hiding from the law or are you high and don’t want anyone to know?” she asked, nudging his arm with her elbow.

He brought his mug away from his face long enough to mumble out, “The third one.”

“What?” Pidge squinted in confusion.

“Yes,” he answered, although there was nothing to answer.

Pidge decided it was best to drop it. Especially when her eyes were suddenly narrowing in on the sharpened points of the guy’s canines. She tried her best not to lean in and stare at them too intensely, but it was really difficult not to. “Do you… have fangs…?” she questioned, one of her eyebrows shooting up as the words left her mouth.

He didn’t seem bothered by the question too much, ducking his head a bit as a bright smile widened across his face. Pidge was able to see his teeth a lot better when he did that, but she could tell that he was a bit self conscious about it. He hesitantly muttered, “Uh… yeah, I do…”

Pidge watched him fumble around with one of his hands, bringing it to the back of his neck to scratch at his skin nervously. “Can I ask how much that costs?” Pidge tilted her head.

“Huh?” the guy blurted, lifting his head again to stare blankly at her. At least, Pidge assumed his stare was blank, it was still a challenge to tell, what, with the lengths this dude had gone to cover his face. She really hoped Lance hadn’t gotten roped in with a criminal.

“To get your teeth shaved like that, how much is it?”

Then, unexpectedly, the guy laughed. He let out a low, melodic chuckle. It caught Pidge off guard, but it was also extremely pleasant a sound. “Nothing,” he laughed.

“What, you mean it’s free?” Pidge asked incredulously.

“Yeah!” He leaned back in his seat and downed some more of his beer. When he pulled away, there was a rosy tint to his cheeks.

Conversationally, Pidge continued, “I actually was thinking of getting that done for myself,” It did look good on this guy, even with her not being able to see half his face. Pidge liked to think that it would give her smirks more of an edge and add more bite to her overall appearance, pun intended.

“Fangs?!” the guy suddenly cried, forcing his entire upper body into her space abruptly. He was baffled by her suggestion.

Pidge pulled back, startled by the movement, but she quickly recovered, “Yeah, exactly. I mean, I just wasn’t sure if that was the right way to go or not. I was considering something less permanent too.”

He shook his head, letting his body drift back to his own seat, seemingly not of his control. “Oh, no, your teeth are beautiful,” he slurred. There was a bright grin on his face. “You shouldn’t fuck them up! Beautiful! They’re beautiful!” he chanted.

Pidge couldn’t help but laugh at that, a smile working its way onto her own face. “Wait, are you drunk?” she asked.

“Oh my god,” he suddenly said, serious for the first time. “I’m drunk… I’ve never been drunk before…”

Snickering to herself, she nodded her head toward the bathroom. “Hopefully Lance gets back soon before you hurt yourself then.”

That smile returned to the guy’s face, albeit fonder than before. “Lance wanted me to try the beer,” he cooed. His hands began to cradle his drink, as though the drunken thought of Lance was enough to make this mystery man melt. It occurred to Pidge then that she didn’t even know the guy’s name and she had just been referring to him as Sunglasses this entire time.

“You and Lance are pretty close,” she commented, quickly becoming aware of the nature of his relationship to Lance. It was somewhat a question designed to probe answers out of him and also somewhat an observation.

“Yeah…” he replied wistfully. Then, once more, a look of panic overcame his features. Pidge was almost scared just from seeing the shift of emotions happen so quickly. There was silence as his pondered his next words. “I think I love him…”

It wasn’t even a declaration of love directed at her, and still, Pidge’s heart stopped. Love. This random dude, who Pidge had never met before, who was suddenly hanging out with Lance, was in love with Lance. That was kind of wild. Lance had found someone. Like, really found someone. That had never happened before. Lance had hooked up, he’d made out at parties, he’d had a few one night stands before, he hit on people a lot, and heck, he even had a girlfriend at one point, but never this. No one had ever gotten so far into Lance’s heart that they could truly say they loved him.

“Don’t tell him I said that…” he hissed out.

Pidge huffed out a quick, disbelieving laugh. “My lips are sealed.” She was as new to this as he seemed to be.

“You’re good. Real good,” he stated, nodding.

“Thanks, you’re not bad yourself,” Pidge grinned. She liked this guy. He was a little weird, and definitely drunk, but he wasn’t a bad guy. Lance picked a good one to settle down with.

“Hey,” he suddenly chirped, “what’s a Vespa?”

And just like that, Pidge’s calm was blown to shreds. “What’s a Ve–” she choked on the words. “You’ve never heard of a Vespa?!” How was it possible that someone didn’t know what a Vespa was?! Pidge would have killed a man for her Vespa. She leaped up, no longer able to sit still while this poor, drunk man lived in blissful ignorance of the greatness that was the Vespa. “We’re going on a ride, c’mon.” She grabbed the guy’s sleeve and yanked him up. He stumbled and nearly dropped his drink, but he didn’t complain, following along. This guy was about to have the best experience of his life.


	18. Feels like We'll Never Be Normal

Keith was drunk. That was fine. He knew that you weren’t supposed to drive while drunk, but he couldn’t drive anyway, so he didn’t really see how it would make much difference if he was drunk on top of that. This was all very new territory as well. He had never been drunk before and he had never driven before. Luckily, only one of those things was being fixed. Keith wasn’t going to drive. He assumed part of it was because he was drunk and part of it was because this girl wasn’t about to let him touch her Vespa.

Vespas, Keith was learning, were cool as fuck. Keith had always wanted a motorcycle, even though he had nowhere to drive it, but he saw now that Vespas were like motorcycles. They weren’t the same, but they were similar. If Keith hadn’t thought this girl was cool as fuck before, he was definitely starting to after seeing her Vespa. It was a little, lime green thing with large, square mirrors. There was a giant light on the front that Keith felt gave it character. The seat was a nice leather, comfortable and attractive with its black finish. Overall, it was incredibly sleek and Keith understood how she could be attached to it.

What was her name again? Pit? Pid? He heard that bartender man say it once but he hadn’t been paying much attention. It foggily occurred to him that he probably shouldn’t have been getting onto the back of a mini motorcycle with a girl he couldn’t even remember the name of while he was drunk and alone in the city for the first time. Lance was around. Emphasis on _was._ After he disappeared to the bathroom, Keith was left wondering if he fell in or something. It was fine though. Bartender and Pit seemed to know who Lance was. They’d tell him where Keith was.

“You still going to wear that hat?” Pit asked.

Keith nodded deeply. His head didn’t feel like it was strapped on right, which made it a lot more difficult to actually strap his helmet on right. Everything felt like it weighed a little bit more than it used to. Keith was dizzy. Still, he smiled easily and chirped, “Yup!”

Pit laughed. She was very amused by all the things that Keith said, he had noticed that. He liked her already. She swung one of her legs over the bike and settled into the seat. Everything about her being on the Vespa was natural, like she belonged there. It put Keith at ease. Or maybe that was the alcohol. “Alright, hop on!” she instructed.

Keith didn’t hesitate to shimmy his way in behind her and latch his arms around her waist. It was a little bit hard to hold onto her since she was so small, but Keith managed. Pit wasn’t complaining, so that helped.

And just like that, Pit kicked off and away they went. Startling back, Keith tightened his grip. He wasn’t responsible for the sudden yelp that escaped his throat, but the excited hollering that followed was completely of his own free will. They immediately kicked off the sidewalk and sped onto the road, turning a corner to get onto a bigger road. They tore through the streets, bobbing and weaving as they turned corners and passed other vehicles. Keith picked up pretty quickly that he had to lean his body into the turn. It was exhilarating.

Keith could hear his heartbeat ringing in his ears, perfectly in sync with the hum of the engine. It shook him, vibrating through his veins and mixing with the alcohol in his system. Adrenaline drowned his blood cells and sobered up his mind enough for him to fully register just how thrilled he was. The wind whipped at his hair and streaked across his skin. He laughed wholeheartedly. Every turn they made, every shop they passed, every person that stopped to watch them rip past widened the grin on Keith’s face.

This was what it meant to live. Keith had been missing out on this his entire life. He couldn’t even hardly believe this. There were things like this, experiences in life that he could have that were out there, and instead he had been trapped in his house for twenty years, not experiencing them. Keith knew he would never go back. This was everything that he had ever wanted. Freedom tasted like the city air that shook his jacket and gripped at his arms.

They threaded their way all around the city before finally coming to a stop near the bar again where Pit had first driven them away. She slowed enough to coast into her parking spot. Then, she turned the motor off and kicked the stand out. Keith stumbled his way off the bike, nearly falling over. The entire street was spinning, but Keith still giggled and pointed at the bike like it was an old friend. “That was fucking sick,” he declared.

Pit hopped off her bike and hurried over to grab Keith’s arm, levering him back into a normal, upright position. Keith hadn’t even noticed he was on the verge of falling over until she did that. “Thanks, Green is a bit of a beast,” she smirked, proud of her tiny motorcycle.

“I want a motorbike,” Keith suddenly blurted out.

“That’s probably a bad idea in your current state,” she suggested, smiling as she tried to guide him back into the bar.

Keith shook his head. “No, I’ve never done anything like that before. That changed my damn life,” Keith insisted, glancing back over his shoulder at the Vespa. “I need more.”

Pit nodded along with his words. “That was how I first felt too. Maybe I’ll give you some riding lessons someday,” she teased.

His neck popped as he whipped his head around to stare at her. The noise threw her off but it didn’t even register in Keith’s hazy brain. “You’d do that? You’d let me drive your Vespa?” He couldn’t quell the desperate excitement that permeated his words.

Pit scoffed, “Not when you’re as drunk as you are, but we’ll see.”

They were already making their way back to the bar again. Keith didn’t notice. He was too busy trying to hold his tongue from spilling how much that meant to him and how much he loved her. He loved Pit. Pit was one of the best people that Keith had ever met – right behind Lance – and he decided then and there, in his drunken state of mind, that Pit was someone who he loved. She had taken him on a ride and that was more than enough to win Keith’s heart. That was freedom like Keith had never tasted. Giving the gift of that experience to Keith was honestly one of the truest gifts ever, and she didn’t even know.

Instead of expressing all that to her though, he let her topple him over into a bar stool next to Lance.

“Keith, there you are!” Lance exclaimed. “What did Pidge do to you? You’re all red.” Lance’s hands were on his face then, feeling his cheeks and inspecting for damage.

“Me? Why is this suddenly my fault?” Pit– Or Pidge, as Keith was just now learning was her name, disgruntledly called over.

“Because you’re a bad influence!” Lance hollered back.

Keith wasn’t really sure what was going on, so he reached a hand up and pushed it through the air. His accompanying ‘woosh’ sound effect drew in everyone’s attention. “Vespas are cool,” Keith concluded.

Keith made a lot of conclusions in that bar, but that was only one of them.

 

◊ ◊ ◊

 

Shiro entered the living room to find Allura staring out the window with her arms wrapped around her frame. There was a worried slant etched into her eyebrows and her eyes scanned the outside sporadically. She hardly ever had the blinds back, mostly because Keith would be more likely to look outside if she hadn’t closed them. There was really no reason to close them now that Keith wasn’t around, but it still seemed strange for her to open them.

She didn’t turn to face him when he made his way into the empty living room, letting the hazy tension continue to linger. The entire room felt like it hadn’t been touched in years, like everything was covered in dust and everyone knew it without having to investigate, as if Allura was a statue that had been placed by the window purely to hold the atmosphere together. Shiro almost didn’t want to disturb it.

“Another postcard,” Shiro called out, his voice carrying across the living room as though he were a hundred miles away, muffled and cutting all at the same time. He waved the card in the air in hopes of drawing Allura’s attention.

She continued to stare out the windows with a faraway look. “I don’t care,” she stated flatly.

Shiro sighed and dropped his gaze to stare at the picture on the back of the card. It was a snowy winter scene with crystalline trees and silver bushes, all punctuated by the red berries that dotted it. Written across the bottom were the words ‘Taujeer Skate Rink’ in curving blue font.

“What does it say?” Allura asked then, drawing Shiro’s focus back up to her. She was staring at him intently, a look of trepidation in her cutting blue eyes. It was the same look that Keith often had when he wasn’t sure about something but was still interested. Although Allura and Keith weren’t biologically related, Shiro often found himself seeing a bit of her within him. Keith had to learn it from somewhere after all.

Shiro shook those thoughts away and turned the card over. Keith’s harsh penmanship was scrawled across the back, short and concise in its message, just like all the others. Shiro never would have pegged Keith as the type to send postcards, but then again, he never had any reason to before. “Went ice skating,” Shiro began to read.

“Stop, I don’t care,” Allura quickly interrupted. She whipped her head back to look out the window, feigning in difference.

“It’s been months,” Shiro blurted out, frustrated. “How is he doing all of this without being seen?”

Allura untangled her arms from her chest and slumped inwards with the force of her sigh. “I’m not sure, but I hope he’s staying safe,” she heaved. Then, she inhaled sharply, and spun on her heel to march toward Shiro. “Come on,” she said, grabbing the postcard and offering Shiro an encouraging smile, “let’s go figure out where they sell this postcard.”

Shiro huffed a laugh, exhausted in nature. No matter how many times they went out to look for the source of the postcards, they always returned empty handed. Yet, still, every time there was a new postcard, Allura was more than determined to head out into the city in search of Keith. Shiro couldn’t blame her, especially since he was itching to hunt for Keith too, but he also had to applaud her tenacity because there was no one out there who had quite the fortitude of Allura, that was for sure. That was one of the many reasons that he had fallen in love with her in the first place.

The pair hurried out of the living room – which was really more of a dead room with how lost in time it felt – and set out with the goal of finding Keith still fresh in their minds.

 

◊ ◊ ◊

 

“Allura, they don’t sell the postcard here,” Shiro pointed out as he exited the shop.

Allura was just coming over from the store next door with a dejected look on her face. “They didn’t have any over there either,” she informed him.

They both stood there for a moment, staring at each other. All around them, people were milling along the sidewalks and cars were rumbling through the streets. Each person was living their individual life, all blissfully unaware of the pain Allura and Shiro were in as they stood on the street corner and stared down at a crinkled postcard, aching for their lost family member, who was honestly something of a son to them. Everything around them was bright and cheerful, yet they were perpetually trapped in their dreary raincloud of a world.

Then, Allura lifted the postcard up to stare at it again, sadness in her eyes. She sighed, “What if we can’t find him?”

Shiro placed his hand over hers, drawing her attention away from the saddening winter scene. “We will,” he assured.

Allura nodded, although the words seemed to pass right through her without any real comfort being absorbed. “Perhaps we should head home,” she suggested. There was a fatigue in her voice that Shiro had heard before. It wasn’t often that he heard it, but it meant that she was too drained and battered to even think about the cause she was fighting for anymore. Shiro hated that tone of voice. It had no business on her tongue. When Allura was exhausted by something, that was how you knew it was exhausting.

Shiro was about to agree and tell her that they would try again the next day, but something caught his eye. Across the street, just between the lumbering traffic, there was a splash of red. There were splashes of red all over the place – cars, people’s clothes, stores, advertisements, flowers – and yet, none of those reds were quite the same as the smoky, trodden crimson colour that had clearly seen some things but was still fighting the good fight furiously like the red that Shiro had glimpsed. That was a red all its own, just like the person who wore that shade. The only person who could ever own a shade of red and have it fit so personally, like he was in mind when the colour was made;

Keith.

Keith, with his leather jacket that meant the world to him. That wasn’t to say that he loved it a lot, although he did, it was to say that it was one of the few things that he knew of the world. And there he was, meandering along the sidewalk with black jeans, a black beanie, and a boy hanging off his arm. There was a smile on the boy’s face as he chatted away. It was the face of Lance, the one that Shiro had gotten to know very well after he had sabotaged Keith more than once.

The words were spilling out of Shiro before he even had a chance to register them. “Allura, that’s Keith’s jacket.”

Allura’s ears seemed to perk up and she spun around with incredible precision. Had Shiro been able to take his eyes away from the retreating figure of his cousin, his brother, his son, Keith wandering away from him, he might have noticed how Allura’s eyes widened comically. Her reaction time wasn’t molasses like Shiro’s was because suddenly she was bolting out into the street.

“Keith!” she hollered. A car nearly hit her. Shiro nearly choked. Allura didn’t even care. She raced past the car, even as it honked furiously at her. Shiro’s legs seemed to kickstart then and he followed after her, offering an apologetic wave to the cars that Allura had left piled up in her wake. “Keith!” she screamed again, a desperate wail, more than anything.

Up the sidewalk, Keith must have heard all the commotion. He turned to the source of it. Allura’s glasses were on his face, covering his eyes, but Shiro was certain that if he hadn’t been wearing them, Keith’s eyes would have filled with horror just as Lance’s were. Keith immediately grabbed Lance and yanked him farther up the sidewalk, drawing him into a sprint.

“Wait, Keith!” Allura cried, picking up the pace as she bobbed and weaved through the many shoppers that were calmly trying to make their way around the city.

Shiro followed after her, albeit clumsier. His bigger stature made it a challenge to skirt around the people. “Allura!” he called, but she was too busy racing after Keith. Shiro fervently hoped that she caught up to him before he disappeared into the streets again.

 

◊ ◊ ◊

 

Lance huffed frantically as he dashed through the streets, Keith guiding him by the hand. He wasn’t sure where they were heading, and he wasn’t even sure if Keith knew since he never stopped once, but that didn’t matter. Lance could still hear the distance shouts of Allura Shirogane as she chased them past the many stores and people.

Risking a glance backwards, Lance could see the bobbing of her white hair some ways back. Something clipped Lance’s shoe. He stumbled. Keith forced him back upwards before he could fall. Lance continued running, panting heavily and making sure to check where he was actually stepping first. He could hear Keith’s wheezing pants in front of him. He glanced to Keith, his eyebrows furrowing in worry. There wasn’t much that he could say when they were busy running from Mrs. Shirogane.

They rounded a corner. Too fast. Lance nearly tripped again, this time faltering Keith along with him. Once more, they both recovered. Keith’s feet pounded the pavement harder than Lance’s heart in his chest. They zigzagged faster and faster, hurrying past people at lightning speeds.

Finally, they made it to The Kerberos Pub. Keith nearly smashed into the door, not able to slow himself down in time. Lance staggered to a stop right behind him, not ready for the sudden change in speeds either. Keith heaved as he lugged the door open and shoved Lance inside. He followed after, still in a rush to get as far away from the windows as possible. Lance coughed once, regaining his breath slowly but surely, even as his heart raced in his chest, beating out its pleas for a chance to rest.

“Hey, you guys are here. Finally,” Pidge called from the bar. She scooped her hand through the air in a gesture that Lance’s dizzy brain vaguely registered as an invitation to come sit with her. Hunk was smiling at them from behind the bar. “It’s your turn to buy, guys,” she laughed.

Lance nodded, still unable to speak. Next to him, Keith let out a pained wheezing breath.

Pidge’s eyebrows pressed inwards, growing concerned the longer the two boys stood there, dying. “Alright, fine, I’ll buy,” she relented, watching as Lance started to stumble his way closer to the bar with his legs feeling like jelly. Frankly, they were acting like jelly too.

There was a thud. It rang through the entire bar. Even Lance’s throbbing ears could pick it up loud and clear.

“Oh my god!” Pidge shouted. Hunk was lunging his way out from behind the bar. Lance stared back over his shoulder. Keith was laying in a heap on the ground. Lance’s heart lurched and he was no longer tired like he had been a moment ago. Pidge was already dropping to her knees at Keith’s side and barking orders at people as Lance rushed over to Keith’s unmoving form. “Someone help me get this jacket off him, he’s overheating!” Pidge cried, unzipping his leather jacket.

Hunk fumbled around with it, attempting to get him out. Lance pulled one of Keith’s sleeves off, hoping that Keith didn’t have some kind of heatstroke. The door above them jingled. “No!” someone shouted. Lance recognized Allura’s voice, but he didn’t bother looking up. In fact, he couldn’t bring himself to look at her, nor could he focus on any of the other dozens of people that were crowding around Keith’s unconscious body, some even gasping.

Right before him, Pidge had torn Keith’s beanie and sunglasses off in an attempt to cool him down and check that he was responsive. In doing so, she had unknowingly unveiled his ears, which twitched at the exposure to the air. Keith groaned and his eyes opened minimally. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to clearly see that he had solid yellow eyes. Then, his eyelids drooped back down. Keith grumbled again before his head lolled to the side and his cheek smacked into the hard floor.

“Holy shit…” Pidge breathed. “He’s the Kogane Beast.”


	19. Compete for Love You Won't Receive

Feeling flooded into Keith’s body. He was suddenly aware of every single part of him. His foot twitched. One of his hands clenched as hard as it could, which wasn’t very hard. Still, Keith didn’t open his eyes. His eyelids were heavy. Ridiculously heavy. Everything felt heavy. His ears twitched on top of his head, listening the sounds around him. It was all muted, as though he were swimming underwater.

Keith’s mind came back to him in hazy bits and pieces, none of them quite fitting together properly to form a coherent picture though. His memories felt like jaded puzzle pieces depicting a murky lake, each piece looking exactly the same as the next and all of them fitting together with each other. Keith struggled to place everything in his mind.

He could remember walking down the street with Lance. He could remember the way that Lance’s smile sparked a fire in his chest and how his excited ramblings about his favourite movies made Keith want to squeeze his hand. There was a hazy spot. He recalled Allura calling his name. Maybe Shiro was there, he wasn’t sure. All he knew was that he had to get away quickly. He was sprinting. Lance was there. They were both racing down the sidewalk. He could see in his mind as they had entered the pub. There was a patchy voice talking to him about beer or paying or something. His throat felt tight and his chest burned. Everything was too hot, so hot, so hot that it was cold, all at once. Then the world was spinning and pain was shooting through his entire body. He could see someone’s face, more than one, and there were words being spoken, but it was all so far away, he couldn’t make it out, he couldn’t remember, he couldn’t see–

Keith opened his eyes. White. The ceiling above him was white. His hands clenched the fabric below him. It was soft and comforting. Keith breathed, deeply. His lungs didn’t hurt anymore. He let his eyes trail along the white ceilings and down the white walls. With a slight tilt of his head, he could see that there wasn’t a spot in the room that wasn’t white. It was all so clean and clinical. The room seemed bigger than it was. Perhaps that was because of all the white, perhaps that was because the last time Keith had been conscious – semi-conscious – he had been surrounded by dozens of faces. Either way, Keith felt like he could breathe, so he did, slowly and rhythmically.

Calculating his every move, Keith began to shift his body. The blanket that was covering his body, Keith quickly discovered, was also white. He wasn’t surprised. A beeping reached his ears, pulling them in with their repetition. Keith located the sound, learning it to be from the heartrate monitor that was hooked up to his arm, counting the steady beats.

Past the monitor, there was a single guest chair. Shiro sat there, slumped forward, his head in his limp hand. He snored softly on his inhale. Keith watched him for a moment. It had been awhile since Keith had seen Shiro’s face, and even longer since he had actually taken the time to commit it to memory. Keith blinked, clearing his eyes enough to really study Shiro’s features. He looked so tired. Not just because he clearly was – he was sleeping after all – it was deeper than that. Keith’s rebellious leave of absence seemed to have really taken a toll on him. Keith hadn’t even considered what Allura, Shiro, and Coran might have been feeling, even with all his postcards. Guilt permeated his thoughts.

Another sound broke through Keith’s reminiscence. He rolled his head over the other way. The door to the room was there, a solid white like everything else. Keith wasn’t surprised. There was a window too, although it was covered with a curtain. White. A flash of light came from the other side. Keith furrowed his eyebrows. His ears twisted around. He could hear the chatter of people and the commanding voice of Allura as she addressed what sounded like a hoard of people. It wasn’t horribly loud, but Keith still narrowed in on it.

With his newfound strength, Keith kicked his legs over the edge of the bed, yanking away the part of the blanket that had gotten caught on his calf. He was in a hospital gown. It was a pale purple rather than a white. Keith had to say he was somewhat shocked. It left his legs feeling bare and his entire lower half feeling open, but that was the least of his worries in the moment. He pulled the heartrate monitor from his finger, letting the buzz of the flatline fill the room. His eyes were too busy narrowing in on the source of the commotion on the other side of the window.

Keith stood, his legs folding in on themselves a little bit. He caught himself with the bedframe, steadying his balance quickly. Then, slowly, Keith approached the window. He grasped the curtains in his hands and ran his thumbs over the rough material. Then, he slid them to the side, revealing the wave of light and noise on the other side. There was a pause.

Keith stared at the many faces of the people. Men and women. Young and old. People with cameras, microphones, notepads, voice recorders. Allura stood in the eye of the storm, her white hair, which was usually a beacon, seemed to blend in to the monotony of the hospital’s colour scheme. Everyone stared at Keith. Eyes widened, jaws dropped, cameras repositioned, people scuffled. Allura’s horrified face whipped around.

And suddenly the noise was alight again, alive and vibrant. There were smiles and frantic questions. Someone said his name, not Allura. They called to him. Keith just stood there, shocked. The buzzing of the heart monitor began to drown out his hearing again. Keith’s ears twitched, unsure of what to focus on. He just stared, his arms falling from the curtains to dangle limply at his sides. He’d never felt so open and exposed before in his life, all his vulnerabilities on display, and yet he couldn’t bring himself to pull away. Allura was desperately attempting to cover the view into the hospital room, but Keith barely noticed her. His eyes trailed over the many faces.

Suddenly, the curtains were ripped back into place, cutting off light and the noise, dulling everything back into its cold white box. Shiro was standing next to him. Keith tilted his head over, barely registering what was going on. “Keith, what’re you doing?!” Shiro frantically asked, panicked and confused.

Keith wasn’t sure what he meant, but words still spilled off his tongue, loaded with emotions that he hadn’t felt since the moment he met Lance, “They didn’t run.”

 

◊ ◊ ◊

 

Lotor followed his father through city hall, trailing along in his footsteps. He had to taken extremely long strides just to be able to walk anywhere close to Zarkon’s pace, but he had a feeling there was a reason for that. The reason being that his father didn’t want to walk next to him. Lotor frowned. He had assumed his father would apologize for being as cruel as he was about the entire Kogane Beast situation. Lotor had proven that he was right all along and yet still, his father never offered any kind of acknowledgement.

They reached the front doors to city hall. Zarkon pushed it open, not even bothering to hold it for Lotor as he rushed along, taking two steps at a time. Lotor’s frown quickly turned into an expression of rage at his father’s behaviour. How dare he act as though there was nothing to speak about. His father was wrong and he was right, that was all there was too it.

Right as Lotor was about to bark something at his father, someone called out to the both of them. Lotor’s eyes snapped to the noise and his feet paused on the steps. There was a hoard of news reporters flocking to the city hall steps. Each of them had their equipment immediately at the ready; cameras, voice recorders, pens, paper, microphones. A billion questions were flying at Lotor from all sides, but he wasn’t perturbed. Lotor had been in front of the press many times before. His father was the mayor, after all. He smiled easily.

“Lotor Galra!” one of the reporters hollered. “Is it true you attempted to file assault charges against Keith Kogane?!”

“I’ve obtained the police report! What do you have to say about this?!” another cried.

“Mr. Galra, are you aware of the allegations that you made the wanted ad for the picture of Keith Kogane?!” a third reporter questioned.

Next to him, Zarkon raised his hands and pressed them outwards to silence the crowd. They all waited expectantly for his answer. Zarkon offered nothing with his facial expressions, just as he usually didn’t. Instead, he simply stated, “No comment, ladies and gentlemen. Now, if you’ll excuse us.” He made to move through the throngs of people again, but before he could, Lotor placed a firm hand on his shoulder.

“It’s okay, I can handle this,” Lotor told him, smiling, somewhat smugly. He turned to address the people once more, and not just the reporters, but the citizens who would be watching the broadcast as well. His expression became more intense as he carefully enunciated his next words, making sure to drive home the severity behind them, “That man. No, that _thing,_ belongs in a cage.” His words rang through the crowd, silencing everyone.

From somewhere near the back, he could hear someone mutter, “What a creep…”

It was quickly backed up with a, “That’s disgusting,” from another section of the press.

Everyone’s faces were appalled as he scanned them, each with their eyes staring directly into his soul with disbelief that he would ever say something like that. Lotor’s eyebrows creased in confusion. He glanced to his father. Zarkon was staring at him thinly veiled disappointment and shock. It was the most emotion that he had ever seen on his father’s face.

“Excuse us,” Zarkon repeated tightly.

He gripped Lotor’s arm with a grip like a vice and yanked him through the crowd. Lotor was jostled as he stumbled after, but he didn’t have time to complain. Before he even registered what was happening, they were popping out on the other side and Lotor was being shoved into the backseat of the heavily armoured car that awaited them on the street. Zarkon slid in next to him and slammed the door enough to make Lotor jump slightly.

The chauffeur peeled away from the curb. Zarkon just stared dead ahead with an unreadable look in his eyes. Everything was distractingly silent. The only sound that reached Lotor’s ears was the rumbling of the car’s engine, and even that started to become a little bit deafening after a minute.

Almost out of nowhere, Zarkon exploded. His hands smacked into the leather seats as he roared, “Have you lost your damn mind?!”

Lotor, albeit startled, gathered himself quickly. He shouted back, defending himself, “You saw him! He’s a complete monster!” Lotor’s eyebrows furrowed indignantly and he forced his back to straighten, gaining as much of a height advantage as he could while they were sitting there.

“The public loves him,” Zarkon hissed through gritted teeth. “We are a publicly traded company. We love what the public loves.” He punctuated his sentence with another smack of his hand into the leather.

“The _public_ doesn’t know him like I do! They don’t know what kind of danger they’re in!” Lotor argued, gesturing wildly.

Zarkon’s face darkened, somehow without him even shifting an eyebrow or twitching his lip. “It doesn’t matter what the public thinks they want or not. Do you think you’re a hero? Do you not see what you’re doing?” His words were like spears in Lotor’s resolve, chipping away at his already wounded pride.

“You didn’t even believe that he was really out there when I told you and now you’re trying to cater to him. I see very well what I’m doing, I’m exposing the beast. What are you doing? Sucking up?”

Those were the wrong words. Zarkon looked about ready to smack the scornful expression off of Lotor’s face. His hand even shifted and clenched as if he were restraining himself from actually doing it. Lotor could feel the rage that was pooling into the tiny space between them, suffocating Lotor and burning his skin with the heat of it. “Are you trying to ruin this company?” Zarkon’s voice felt like it was echoing off the walls, even though it was probably only echoing within Lotor’s own mind.

Lotor glared at his father, refusing to answer. He wasn’t trying to ruin the company, but he felt as though answering Zarkon’s question one way or another would only be a lose in his book. His eyes glazed over with ice as he stoically stared down Zarkon.

“You better fix this.” Zarkon’s words shook the entire car with the threat that went unsaid.

Even Lotor didn’t want to think about what that would mean. Instead, he tilted his head to look out of the car window. He didn’t want to fix it. He didn’t know how to fix it. Just the thought of having to face that demon was enough to make Lotor’s hairs stand on end. He scowled deeply. His father’s eyes were still on him, he could feel it, but he didn’t dare turn to meet them. The rest of the drive was silent, deafeningly so.

 

◊ ◊ ◊

 

Keith steadied his arm out in front of him. His eyes narrowed in on his target like a hawk, aiming with the accuracy of a professional. The room was silent, waiting and watching. Keith rocked his hand back and forth a little bit, testing the weight of the item in his hand. With a deep breath, Keith reared it back, just slightly. When everything felt perfectly aligned, he flicked it forward again. It shot through the air, whipping past all the onlookers until it finally pierced the board on the wall. Complete precision.

Everyone around Keith began to cheer, raising their glasses and laughing together. Someone smacked Keith on the back and offered a good-natured, “You throw a mean dart, dude!”

Keith nodded at him, a smile lifting the side of his lips. The guy disappeared off into the crowd, although everyone else chimed in with their own congratulations on the game. He had said that he could play darts, but he had a feeling that no one had known how great he was. When you were locked up in your house for years with nothing to do and no one expecting anything from you, it wasn’t so far fetched to think that Keith could teach himself to be a competition-worthy dart player.

Suddenly, an arm slithered its way around Keith’s waist, the slender fingers lazily resting on Keith’s hip. With a grin, Keith turned to face Lance, who was draping himself over Keith and beaming. “That was amazing,” Lance complimented. His eyebrows lowered and he looked off to the side. “For an amateur, I mean,” he muttered. He was clearly pretending to be saying it under his breath, but Keith still swatted him in the arm.

“You think you can do better?” he challenged.

Lance smirked, a sharp quirk of his mouth accompanied by the miniscule lidding of his eyes. It always got Keith’s heart racing; half for the challenge, and half because his boyfriend just did things to him in general. “I _know_ I can do better,” Lance asserted.

With a snort, Keith maneuvered himself around to properly face Lance instead of just glancing at him over his shoulder. “Pretty cocky, aren’t you?” Keith teased.

“Well,” Lance lowered his voice and leaned his face in a little closer. “They don’t call me sharpshooter for nothing…”

Keith could feel that Lance was about to lean in the rest of the way and close the distance between them, but before he could, there were a pair of hands pushing them both backwards. Keith, disgruntled, turned to face the slightly bothered face of Pidge.

“Yeah, hey, it’s me. Try to remember where you are. Let’s keep it PG.” She patted them kindly on the arms.

Keith suddenly realized just how close he was to Lance and how suggestive their pose would look to anyone else. Not that Keith was particularly bothered by that, but it was a little bit embarrassing when he heard someone whistle at them from across the bar, followed by a ruckus of laugher. It was all in good fun, but Keith still pulled away from Lance enough that their touch could be considered innocent. Lance looked just as embarrassed, but still giddy.

And it did unimaginable things to Keith’s heart. Lance’s gaze always had done that to him, but there was something so strange about seeing it while they were out in public and Keith wasn’t wearing his disguise. He didn’t have a beanie on, leaving his ears out in the open, twitching and twisting freely with every sound. His glasses had been left behind in favour of letting his solid yellow eyes be free. Keith found that he quite liked the city when there wasn’t a yellow tint on everything. His bandages and makeup had also been forgotten. It was just Keith being Keith, and Lance staring at him with nothing but sheer love. Keith had never felt so confident, not even just because Lance was looking at him like that, but also because no one else was bothered by his appearance either.

That was the wildest thing of all, actually. After Keith’s photo had been put in the newspaper and he had been discovered after passing out at the bar, everything had changed. People knew who he was, and they weren’t running from him. Keith was revered. Everyone was very interested to know more about him. He had even had to quell some accusations about Shiro and Allura after they were suspected of locking him up. It was quite overwhelming for Keith. His entire life he had been told that no one would like him if they knew what he actually looked like, then he finally got out into the real world and he was met only with open arms.

Everyone loved him.

And that made it all even better when he returned home. He had returned back to the Shirogane household where he had always been, but the walls didn’t feel nearly as suffocating as they used to. That was because he wasn’t trapped by them anymore. He could leave freely. And he did leave freely. Allura and Shiro were still worried for his safety, which Keith could understand since he had basically just disappeared from their lives for a few months after never having left their sight for years. Keith did sort of feel bad for putting that worry on them, even if it was necessary. Except, now, it was no longer necessary. Keith could come and go as he pleased. He liked to think it was because Shiro and Allura had warmed up to the idea of Keith being out on his own, although there was also the threat of the public noticing in the event that they did decide to lock him up again. Still, Keith was baffled and relieved by his newfound freedom.

Keith never imagined that he would be standing where he was, hand in hand with the most beautiful boy he had ever met, all while looking the way he did. With an entire city falling in love with him, an incredible boyfriend who cared about him deeply, and friends who were there to support him unconditionally, Keith was really starting to believe that maybe, just maybe, there was something about himself that was worthy of all that love.

Keith squeezed Lance’s hand, then smiled at him and led him toward the bar so they could join Pidge and get a few drinks. And maybe they played a few games of darts afterwards. And maybe Keith got his ass handed to him by Lance, who really was the sharpshooter he claimed to be. Maybe. Keith wouldn’t admit it.


	20. I Don't Ever Wanna Feel like I Did That Day

The lock on the door echoed through the high ceilings of the foyer as Keith flicked it back into place. He dropped his key into the little jar on the counter that jutted out from the wall. There were a couple other keys, all colour coded, for various things. He smiled to himself. Even after months of living on his own in the city with Lance and then being home for a week, there was still something extremely satisfying about being able to lock the door and drop his key in the jar. He’d never been able to do that before. It felt a little bit silly to be excited about something like that, but there was no one around, so Keith would indulge himself in the victory.

He meandered his way from the front door into the kitchen on his way to his room. He had a goofy grin stretched across his face, unable to keep it down. He would almost be enticed to start humming a pleasant song to himself if not for the fact that he was suddenly very aware of the clicking of heels across the floor. He paused and turned.

In the doorway to the kitchen stood Allura. That wasn’t out of the ordinary. The excited smile that pulled at her cheeks, however, was very strange and out of place.

“Hey…” Keith greeted, his eyebrows furrowing as he cautiously tried to figure out why she was so happy.

“I have the most wonderful surprise for you!” she cheered. There was a tenseness about her shoulders that told Keith she was having trouble containing herself. This made Keith’s hackles rise.

He squinted at her. “Surprise…?” he echoed.

She nodded eagerly and hurried across the kitchen to grab his arm. He let her, even as every part of him was suspicious. “In the dining room.” She led his begrudging form along through the kitchen and around the corner.

“This better not be like that time you tried to surprise me with pet mice, Allura. They were for you and you knew it,” Keith grumbled, letting himself be led away.

Allura glanced back to give Keith an unimpressed, flat stare. “No, it’s not.”

Keith would have sighed in relief if he wasn’t completely certain there was still room for this surprise to be not even half as great as Allura thought it was. She wasn’t exactly the best gift giver, and especially not for Keith, who only ever had one thing on his wishlist; freedom.

They rounded the corner of the dining room arch and entered. Keith halted in his steps. He stared, wide-eyed. His brain wasn’t computing properly for a moment and he wasn’t even sure he was actually seeing what he was seeing. Lotor was standing there, right there, in the dining room. The same Lotor who had spewed a bunch of bullshit about understanding what Keith’s life was like. The same Lotor who had begged to see Keith, loading on assurances that he would never find Keith anything but beautiful. The same Lotor that had taken one look at him and run for the hills, screaming. The same Lotor who had filed a police report against him the day after. The same Lotor who, if Keith was not mistaken, had decided Keith deserved to be put in a cage on live television the other day. Yeah. That Lotor. And there he was, in Keith’s own home again. He had a respectable smile on his face which matched the expensive suit that adorned his tall frame.

Keith’s eyebrows narrowed. He was no longer in the suspicious category, he was way past that. It had become a sense of danger the second his eyes locked onto that icy blue gaze that watched him with thinly veiled disgust. Keith rounded on Allura, his voice coming out in a hiss as he asked, “What is this?”

Before Allura could reply, Lotor was stepping forward and answering for her. “I’m sorry,” he apologized. His hands reached out as if he were reaching to grasp Keith’s own hand, but Keith didn’t let him. Lotor’s forehead creased, but he continued anyway, “I’m sorry I ran from my feelings.” His voice was richer than the words he spoke and Keith almost wanted to laugh.

“Really?” Keith snorted, holding himself back. “As I remember it, you were running from me, not your feelings,” he spat. His arms almost instinctively crossed over his chest and he straightened his back. His ears twitched irritably and he watched Lotor’s eyes track the movement closely.

“You were mistaken,” Lotor covered, flicking his eyes back to Keith’s eyes, as if he wasn’t focused on his ears moments ago. “I was merely running from my feelings for you. I was not ready to face such strong emotions then,” Lotor defended himself. He took another step forward.

“Yeah, strong emotions, right,” Keith muttered, shuffling in his spot and briefly staring to his feet as if he could find answers to the billion questions that were running through his head there. He glanced over at Allura again, then back at Lotor. “Is this a joke?” he asked seriously, no hint of humour in his tone.

Allura slapped his arm as a warning. “Keith!” she chastised. “Don’t be rude.”

The way she hissed the words at Keith, as if he was the one in the wrong here, made Keith’s upper lip curl in disgust. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see as Lotor’s eyes narrowed at the reveal of his fangs. For the first time in his life, Keith was actually glad that he had completely solid yellow eyes because not only did they freak out Lotor, which brought Keith joy, but no one could tell as he rolled his eyes at Lotor’s obvious lies.

Allura was still talking though, “Look at him.” And Keith did. It was difficult to meet those condescending eyes, but he forced himself. A cringe worked its way across his face, but he tried his best to suppress it. Allura was suddenly very close to his face, whispering in his ear as he stared at Lotor’s awkward, forced smile, “He can break the curse.”

And there it was again, that sickly self-doubt that had plagued Keith for years. It crept up on him and slithered its way beneath his skin, tapping incessantly at the back of his neck. His purple spots slowly began to sprout with itchiness, begging to be scratched. His eyes suddenly burned as he was reminded just how soulless his eyes really were to other people. His ears flattened against the top of his head before he could even have time to think about the action. They were trying to minimize their own existence. His teeth felt like they were magnified and all anyone could focus on. He ran his tongue over them self consciously.

But no. He forced his head up, his ears following. He wouldn’t let himself feel that way, especially not over the fact that Allura was still holding onto a cure for the curse. Keith had a beautiful boyfriend who loved him dearly, he had friends who supported him, he had a life of freedom without anyone harassing him, he had the public’s approval. There was nothing to fear. Gone were the days of men and women bolting out the door at the sight of him. He wasn’t about to fall back into that pit again.

“Things are different now, Allura,” he asserted, staring at her with unrelenting force.

Allura glared at him with a fire that startled Keith a little bit, but he didn’t back down. Then, she frantically turned back to Lotor with a million-dollar smile. “He’s overwhelmed. Give us a moment,” she sweetly told him. Her claws pinched into Keith’s arm as she dragged him back in to the kitchen. It was nothing like when she had first tugged him into the dining room and Keith nearly fell over from the force of her pulling.

When they were out of earshot of Lotor, Allura whipped around to face him, her expression murderous. “What do you think you’re doing?” she hissed.

Keith’s eyebrows drew together. “Me? What are you doing?”

Allura’s eyes blazed before settling down again. She really seemed like she was holding herself back and struggling. “I am trying to help you.” Her icy tone pushed Keith back a step.

“Help me?” he spat. “I don’t need help! Things aren’t the same anymore, Allura, I don’t need to break the curse.” Keith stood up taller and crossed his arms over his chest defiantly.

That wasn’t the right answer, however, because Allura straightened out her back in an attempt to stand above him, if not in actual height, then in assertive confidence. “Different? Why, because you’re splattered all over the newspapers now?” she uttered, the words leaving her throat with a cutting edge to them.

“No,” Keith replied, just as angry, “because I have friends.” Keith met her eye perfectly, never backing down from the heat that was growing in their argument, although his heart did melt at his next words, and it was noticeable in the way his tone softened and his shoulders relaxed, “And… I think Lance might really love me…” He wasn’t entirely certain that Lance _loved_ him. They’d been dating for some time, but maybe it was still too soon. He knew that he loved Lance though, and that was enough.

Allura’s voice cut through his thoughts about Lance, although they were no longer angry. Her face had let up, revealing saddened pain. She stared at him, her gaze dripping with pity. “Those aren’t friends, Keith, those are fans,” she whispered. Keith, taken aback, flinched his head back. “They don’t really care about _you,_ they care about your novelty. Do you not hear what they say about you? They talk about you as if you’re a beast. They’re amazed that you can do anything, because that’s all you are to them; a beast.” She stepped forward, offering her hands along with an understanding smile.

And that was what did it. Those were the words that Keith had been afraid to hear again. After so much had happened. He could remember how scared he felt when he had left his home for the first time and seen the world. His mind called back all the times that Lance had come in to see him and talk to him while he was behind that one-way glass. He remembered the speech that Lance gave Keith which made Keith give his heart in return. Every time that Lance kissed his cheek and told him he was the most beautiful person Lance had ever seen, all of that, Keith could remember it all vividly. And that was just the beginning of everything; meeting Pidge and Hunk, having friends, being loved by the public, feeling more and more confident in himself each and every day.

Yet, there was still always a nagging feeling at the back of his mind that told him it was all a bit too good to be true. And it was. Here Allura was, someone who loved Keith deeply enough to tell him what she saw to be true, and she was telling him that he was being played for the fool. It didn’t matter if it wasn’t true because Keith was too busy falling deeper into the pit of anxiety that had been carved within him after twenty years of being told he was a monster. Those words, those simple sentences that Allura had spoken to him, they were enough.

Keith swallowed down the lump in his throat and tried to even out his voice. “No… that can’t…” he stuttered, unable to think of anything to say that would counter Allura’s point. Was she right…? He wanted to say she couldn’t be, but his mind was already sifting through every interaction he had ever had with anyone outside of the house and picking it all apart, hunting for the pieces that didn’t quite fit. Evidence.

“Lotor wants to _marry_ you,” Allura emphasized, gesturing vaguely back to the dining room where Lotor was probably still waiting.

Keith shook his head. He knew that Lotor didn’t actually want to marry him, not really. Keith didn’t want that either. His mind was too busy spiralling out of control with worry and panic. The tightness in his chest just kept compressing and forcing itself inward. His eyes flicked to the mirror on the wall across the room and he nearly flinched back at the image there. He had been getting used to seeing what he looked like in pictures and in mirrors, but something about his own face at that moment felt so foreign and unfamiliar.

Keith shook those thoughts away as quickly as he could. His brain slowly echoed Allura’s words in his mind. Lotor. That wasn’t right. That wasn’t how it was supposed to be. But how was it supposed to be? Keith couldn’t tell anymore. “But, Lance…” he began.

Allura cut him off before he could finish whatever half-formed idea was fumbling its way out of his mouth. “Lance can’t help you, Keith. You know that,” she reminded him. Her hands gently curled around Keith’s arms and pulled them away from his chest where he had been pulling them into himself, shrinking his frame. Her hands burned against his skin and he wondered if she noticed that her fingers were right up against one of his purple marks. Keith was aware.

“Lance doesn’t care what I look like,” Keith finally uttered. His voice didn’t crack like he had been expecting it to.

Allura moved her hands down Keith’s wrists to properly hold his hands in hers, an action that was meant to be comforting but just made Keith feel more and more helpless. She spoke gently, as if any harsh word could break Keith then and there, “Of course he would say that. Your appearance is profitable.” As those words left Allura’s mouth, Keith’s heartbeat echoed in his ears and he could hardly focus on the raging thoughts within his head. “You don’t think he’s making money now that he’s with you?” she asked. Keith could feel his head dipping farther and farther down, his eyes burning with unshed hurt. Allura followed him, attempting to stare him in the eyes, but Keith couldn’t bear it.

His mind was flooded with images of Lance; beautiful, gorgeous Lance. He wouldn’t do that to Keith, would he? He cared about Keith. It wasn’t about the money, that was what he had said. And sure, maybe Lance had been a man about the money, and maybe he had tried to steal from Keith, but Lance was past that now. He wouldn’t use Keith for money. Although, he wasn’t complaining about picking the nicest hotel in the city. And he didn’t have a problem with Keith selling his photo for money either. In fact, Lance had been wanting Keith to put himself out there more. Keith had assumed that had to do with Lance’s self-love crusade but could it have been because he wanted to sell Keith’s strange appearance, just like he had been doing with the picture when they had first met?

But Lance wasn’t like that. Lance wouldn’t do that. It was a little bit strange that he would be with Keith, that could be admitted. And his thing with money wasn’t to be ignored, no. But Lance loved… him… Right…? That was how it was, wasn’t it? Sure, Keith was hard to look at, brash, naïve, angry, aggressive, inexperienced, lost, depressing, whiny, and had no self esteem, but that… Keith’s heart began to race and his entire face burned with the need to start crying. There was no reason that Lance would be with him. What did Keith have? Nothing. He was a creature who had been locked up his entire life, so filled with rage and so oblivious to the outside world, and there was nothing that was appealing about him. Keith wondered how Allura could even stand in front of him now, softened by that sympathetic and protective frown. What did she care if Keith went out there and made a fool of himself?

That frown was speaking again, revealing more things that Keith wasn’t sure he could handle, “Are you sure you’re prepared to walk away from this?” She stared deeply into Keith’s eyes, prodding him to really think about it and to come up with his answer. “Are you prepared to walk away from your one and only chance at a normal life?” Keith’s heart palpitated and he choked on the abrupt breath that forced itself into his lungs.

A normal life. That was all that Keith had ever wanted. He just wanted to play outside like the other kids and go to school like the other kids. To have friends like the other kids. All that Keith had ever wanted was a normal life. And he had it. At least, he thought he did. He had a boyfriend and friends, he could come and go as he pleased without anyone harassing him, he was experiencing his city for the first time. He was happy and he was as normal as he could be. Except, he wasn’t. Because Keith still looked the way he did and everyone was using him. No one took him seriously. His life wasn’t normal. His life was a joke that he wasn’t in on, because Keith wasn’t normal.

Behind him, Keith could hear the clearing of someone’s throat. With his hands still in Allura’s and his shoulders still tensed as he attempted to keep himself together, Keith slowly turned his head. Allura squeezed his hands once, then let him go, gesturing closer to the dining room. Lotor was stood there, a sort of resolve behind his emotionless eyes. Keith glanced to Allura again. She was smiling encouragingly.

Slowly, Lotor lowered himself to the floor, his composure sinking just as he was. His knee hit the hardwood, seeming much louder and more final than it should have. He swallowed once, choking back whatever he really wanted to say. His shaking hands disappeared into one of his pockets. Keith watched as he pulled out a little black box. Lotor flicked it open. The ring sparkled under the bright kitchen light. It was beautiful. Keith wanted to throw up.

If he didn’t marry Lotor, he would remain the same forever. He would stay a monster. Everyone would continue to use him and treat him as the beast he was. But that wasn’t who he wanted to be. That wasn’t who Allura, Shiro, and Coran wanted him to be either. Keith wanted to be normal. Lotor could make him normal. Lance couldn’t. Could he marry Lotor to lift the curse, then leave him for Lance? Was that an option? Would Lance even want him anymore if he wasn’t making money from Keith’s appearance?

Keith’s ears shifted. His skin tingled and burned, itching like never before. His fangs poked into his lips as if trying to escape. His eyes watered.

And with a certain disgust, Lotor retched the words that Keith didn’t have an answer to, “Will you marry me, Keith?”


	21. Talk Enough Sense and You'll Lose Your Mind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, y'all, I am back! My finals are over and I am officially out of high school completely. Time to be an adult, I guess, yikes. Summer is here and I have all the time in the world to bring you readers some more new Klance, so that's what I'm really excited about. I have tons of ideas for my next fic, although none of them are good. At all. I'm in the mood to write something real fucked up, y'know? Anyway, I know I left last chapter off on a rough note, speaking of notes... Do you hear that...? Doesn't that sound... like... wedding bells...?

When Lance heard the news, he was at the bar. He was having a good time. He had a beer in his hand, he was listening to something that Hunk was saying. The other regulars were sitting around at the bar too, also drinking, also listening to Hunk. It was normal. It was fun. He wished Keith was there. He was always wishing Keith was with him, just so that he could hold his boyfriend’s hand and see his smiling face as he experienced the things that he’d missed out on for years of his life.

But Keith wasn’t there. Lance wondered why. He was a little bit worried, even. Keith wasn’t answering his calls or texts when Lance invited him to come to the bar. That wasn’t completely out of the ordinary for Keith, but usually he would have responded by now. Which, he hadn’t. That made Lance’s worry worse. There was nothing to worry about though. That was what he had been telling himself.

Then everything was shattered in a single moment.

Pidge came running into the bar, completely out of breath and panicked. Lance spun his chair around as the bell rang violently, alerting the entire room to her entrance. Her wild eyes scanned the bar before landing on Lance and widening. She skirted around some people and pushed past another as she bolted straight to Lance.

“What’s the rush, Pidge?” Lance laughed, although it was a little bit forced as Pidge’s own panic began to amplify Lance’s.

Pidge didn’t even grace Lance’s joshing intro with a pity laugh or a roll of the eyes, she just breathed out a single sentence that seemed to stop Lance’s breath completely; “Keith’s getting married.”

There was a ringing in Lance’s ears for a moment, as if those words were fabricated and Lance had simply imagined them out of paranoia. He stared at Pidge, begging her to break out into laughter at any second, but he could tell just from her insistently serious expression that this wasn’t a joke. His body felt like molasses as he set his drink down and straightened himself up.

“What…?” he huffed out, the word more a cough in his throat than anything.

“I was delivering a package to the Shirogane house and there was wedding stuff everywhere!” Pidge frantically retold. “I asked who was getting married and some lady told me it was Keith.” His name stuck in her throat. Lance’s heart dropped into his stomach, quickly being dissolved by the acid there.

He shook his head as his eyes blurred and his mind shut down. “W-Who…?” he mumbled, unable to choke out the rest of his question.

Pidge filled in the blanks for him. Whether she had guessed what he was trying to ask or she was still retelling wasn’t clear. “Lotor. He’s marrying Lotor.”

And just like that, all of Lance’s confusion flipped like a switch into rage. “Lotor?!” he spat. “That jackass that said Keith should be locked up?! Why the hell is he–?! That makes no sense!” Lance’s eyes practically bulged out of his head. He leaped up form his seat, startling Pidge backwards.

“Doesn’t marrying a blueblood lift the curse or something?” Hunk asked from behind the bar. He was leaned across as far as he could go, attempting to hear all the details. His eyebrows were drawn together in concern.

Lance had completely forgotten that Hunk was even there. He had forgotten that anyone else was in the bar at all with the way his head was suddenly swimming. “The curse,” he repeated. “Holy shit, it’s to lift the curse!” His curse echoed across the bar, causing heads to turn; the heads of those who weren’t already watching Lance come undone in the middle of the bar floor. “No! Someone put him up to this! Was it the Shirogane’s?! That piece of shit doesn’t even love Keith, he has no right to– to _use_ him like this! They can’t just marry him off like that!” Lance raged.

He could barely articulate just how wrong it all was into words. How could they do that to Keith? Keith wasn’t even bad looking. He was beautiful. Cat ears and yellow eyes didn’t change his personality an ounce. He was still the same sarcastic, grumbly, intelligent, adventurous, badass, sexy, warrior of a man that Lance had met all those months ago. Nothing could change that, and his appearance certainly didn’t change his worth as a person. Lance could see all that inner beauty, the people in the bar could see it, the people across the country could see it. It was just Keith and the Shirogane’s that couldn’t. Lance didn’t understand how they could live with Keith for that long and not see just how incredible a person he truly was. Lance could see it within five minutes of speaking to Keith, and he wasn’t even looking at the boy. Lance loved Keith.

Then, they turned around and married Keith off. They just set him up with a man who wanted to hurt him, all for what? The possibility that Keith wouldn’t look the way he did? That was cruel. Lance wasn’t even thinking about how it was technically a form of cheating. Or maybe it was a forced breakup? He wasn’t exactly sure, and it made a difference whether Keith was coerced or not. All he knew for sure was that he had to stop that wedding, because whether it would change Keith’s appearance or not didn’t matter, it wasn’t healthy and it wasn’t alright.

Before even waiting to hear anything else that Hunk and Pidge had to say, Lance was already sprinting out of the bar. He paused at the edge of the street to look into traffic as it roared past. Then he spotted it. A yellow taxi. Perfect. He leaped out in front of it as it drove closer. The taxi halted with a squeaking of the tires and a honk of the horn, nearly taking out Lance’s knees entirely, but it stopped just in time.

“Lance!” Hunk called out.

Lance instantly turned at the sound of his best friend’s voice to find him and Pidge both chasing after him, each with frantic looks on their faces. “C’mon! We have a wedding to stop!” he hollered, gesturing them closer. He rounded the taxi and ripped the passenger door open. The cabbie was understandably shaken, but Lance didn’t even waste his breath on an apology, knowing that he was running out of time. “You have to take us to the Shirogane estate! Please, it’s an emergency!” he begged.

Pidge and Hunk came up behind him, their shoes slapping on the pavement noisily.

The cab driver stared at Lance for a moment, taking in his desperate and dishevelled expression. With a sigh, the driver gestured to the back of the cab and heaved out a quick, “Get in.”

Lance smiled brightly and slammed the door shut. He grabbed the handle of the back door, yanking it open so that Hunk and Pidge could load themselves in as fast as possible. He scooted in himself and closed the door again. “Thank you! Thank you so much!” Lance chanted as the cabbie pulled off down the road again, heading in the direction of the disastrous wedding that Lance had to stop.

“What’s the plan?” Pidge asked, somewhat fearful of anything that Lance was about to suggest. “We can’t just walk in there; they wouldn’t even let me in to drop off the package.”

“Then we’ll break in,” Lance said, no hesitation.

Hunk’s eyebrows furrowed. “What if we get caught? They could arrest us!” His eyes widened as he worked through his own thought process.

“We can’t get caught!” Lance answered. “We have to stop this wedding from happening at all costs and being arrested would get in the way, so it’s not going to happen.” Lance had just decided that. He was too anxious and twitchy to come up with an actual plan.

“So, what, we’re just going to race in there, guns blazing, and hope no one stops us?” Pidge stared at Lance like he was out of his mind, and maybe Lance was a little bit out of his mind, but it was justifiable since he was on a time crunch to ruin his boyfriend’s wedding.

Lance frowned. “Well, I don’t see you coming up with a better idea!” He didn’t mean to snap but he was growing more and more worried the longer it took to get to Keith’s house. There wasn’t a lot of traffic, but even just the speed limit was getting in Lance’s way. He stared frantically down the street, trying to calm himself down as his mind went out of control imagining Keith being married off to that creep.

“Don’t worry, dude,” Hunk comforted him, reaching across Pidge to pat Lance’s arm. “Keith wouldn’t marry that guy, right?” Not even Hunk sounded convinced by his own words. Lance could see the nervous twitch in Pidge’s eyebrows that told him she didn’t agree with the statement either.

Still, Lance nodded along and whispered his assent to no one in particular.

The taxi turned a corner and passed a few cars as it navigated the city. Everything was moving by in a blur, not only because they were moving as quickly as they could, but also because Lance wasn’t able to focus on anything around him. He bobbed and weaved his head in sync with the car, constantly attempting to get a better view of where they were relative to Keith’s house. As they got closer, Lance’s heart sped up, nearly beating out of his chest in its desperation to reach Keith. He swallowed thickly and leaned closer to the front, staring through the separation glass with wide eyes. He recognized the neighbourhood. They were close, so close.

Finally, the cab rounded one more corner. Lance could see Keith’s driveway at the end of the road. It was hard to miss with how enormous the house was, being more of a castle than anything, but even then, the grounds were littered with all types of fancy cars that blocked the driveway. Lance nearly swallowed his heart whole. His limbs itched with the desire to leap out of the window right then, but he waited until they were closer. His legs bounced, alerting Hunk and Pidge to his struggle to stay still.

The cab stopped right beside the packed driveway, the cab driver wondering where he could park. Lance took the opportunity. He slammed the door open and shot out of the cab. He could hear Pidge coming up behind him as best she could. Hunk wasn’t around though. If Lance had spared even a second to think about anything other than the wedding, he would have figured out that Hunk was the only one who remembered to pay the driver.

Lance raced across the road and around the cars that were parked there. He panted wildly. Pidge behind him was also heaving as she ran. Lance paused, skidding to a halt as he scanned the fence that lined the property. His eyes landed on the lower fence door that he had hurdled over when he had raced back into the Shirogane house before, twice.

Without consulting it with Pidge or Hunk, who had finally caught up to the group, Lance sprinted at the gate. His eyebrows narrowed determinedly. Hands shooting out at the last moment, Lance pushed himself up and over, propelling his long limbs over the gate and landing none too gracefully on the other side. He stumbled but didn’t stop running.

“Lance, wait!” Pidge shouted as she slowed to a stop at the fence. She wasn’t able to vault over it like Lance could. Hunk came up beside her and she began searching for a way to get herself on the other side.

“Lance!” Hunk cried out.

There was no time. Lance couldn’t waste a second even looking back at them. He would make it up to them later, but right at that moment, Lance had to go stop the love of his life from getting married.

He dashed across the driveway and onto the lawn, rounding the house to reach the backyard as quickly as he could. The farther out he went, the more wedding decorations he saw. As he rounded the last corner of the house to exit out onto the wide expanse of the backyard, he came face to face with everything.

Tables dotted one half of the yard with little wooden chairs at each of them. They were adorned with white tablecloths and decorated with crystal utensils. A vase of flowers sat perfectly in the centre of each. Past those, there was an entire row of rose petals that trailed down the entire walkway. On either side, pristinely white garden chairs were set up in rows, all facing the white arch of flowers at the end. It sat atop a small landing which had steps leading up to it. Lance could perfectly see all the way to the other end.

There were dozens of people, all sat in the chairs and leaning forward. Even from behind, Lance could tell that they were royals from all over the area. They hadn’t noticed his arrival, and even as he stood there panting, collecting his bearings from how jarring this all was, they still didn’t seem to notice him. That was because their attention was focused in on the event occurring beneath the flowered archway. Lance couldn’t blame them. The moment he spotted it, he nearly choked on his own breath.

A lady was stood near the back, holding a book. She was saying something, but Lance wasn’t really listening. The officiant, spelling out all the promises that were to be made at this wedding. Lotor was there. His long hair blended in perfectly with the archway, highlighting just how forgettable and bland he was, at least in Lance’s eyes. He wore a grey suit which was as expensive as anything he’d ever seen the man wear, only this time it had a little corsage pinned to the lapel. Everything about him screamed uncomfortable and resigned, as if it wasn’t a complete pleasure to be marrying someone as astounding as Keith. Lance’s blood boiled as he glared searing holes into Lotor’s tight face.

And finally, Lance allowed his eyes to drag over to the man next to Lotor. As much as it pained him, he looked to Keith. And Lance’s heart thudded painfully. There, stood in his black suit, cleaned up and absolutely stunning, was Keith. His ears were pressed back against his head and his face was to the ground, sorrowful in the way he blankly stared. It was heartbreaking. Lance had only ever seen Keith make such a pained and hopeless expression one time in his life, and it was when he had promised to end his own life if the curse wasn’t broken. Those words suddenly started ringing in Lance’s ears.

Lance didn’t notice as Pidge and Hunk came rushing around the corner of the house after him and had the shock of seeing everything for the first time. All he could zero in on were the words that the officiant was suddenly saying, “If anyone objects to this couple joining together in matrimony, let them speak now or forever hold their peace.”

Lance’s mind kicked into gear there, just as his feet did. He was suddenly stomping his way past the tables and across the lawn. He stood at the end of line, drawing in the attention of some of the people who were near the edges. “I object!” he hollered. His voice echoed. All at once, everyone was gasping and shifting around in their seats to witness who would dare interrupt a royal wedding such as this. Lance stood tall and forced himself to look at Keith rather than the many people who were looking at him. And it was worth it. To see Keith’s eyes widen and a small smile break through the permanent gloom on his face as he saw Lance, his ears flicking up suddenly and his back straightening, it was all worth it.

“Not you!” a woman’s voice shouted. Lance could see as Allura Shirogane at the front stood up, her purple gown making it difficult for her to move very quickly. There was a look of rage in her eyes as she stepped into the aisle, blocking Lance from getting to Keith. “You’ve ruined enough! I won’t have you ruin this too!”

“I’m not the one ruining everything! Look what you’re doing to Keith!” Lance yelled back, gesturing wildly as he stomped his way down the aisle.

“I am trying to give him a normal life like he deserves!” Allura jabbed her finger at Lance, her eyebrows furrowing into something dangerous. By this time, Takashi Shirogane was standing up at the front. He glared murderously at Lance.

Lance’s teeth were bared as he argued back, “He already was finally having a normal life until you did this!” He gestured at the decorations and the guests all around them.

Suddenly, Pidge was at Lance’s side, backing him up entirely. “Yeah! He was happy when he was hanging out with us, but he sure doesn’t look happy now!” She pointed at Keith, although Allura didn’t turn to see him.

“You’re all just using him,” she hissed. “You don’t want what’s best for him, you don’t see Keith for who he really is, none of you do!” Her voice cracked.

Lance stepped back, unable to even process that someone could accuse him of thinking about Keith that way, as if Lance didn’t love Keith and only want him to be happy. “How can you say that when you’re trying to change him?” Lance asked, shocked at Allura’s words.

Takashi stepped in then, placing his hand on Allura’s elbow to comfort her. “We’re not changing him, we’re lifting this curse that was placed on him so he can finally be himself; something that you obviously don’t care about.” There was a flex in his hands that told Lance he was trying his best to restrain his desire to pummel Lance right there in front of all those guests.

“We care about Keith more than you!” Pidge accused, throwing her hand out aggressively and stomping forward a few steps, ready for a real fight. Allura looked like she was prepared to smack Pidge as her eyes widened and she stood taller.

“Keith’s features are part of who he is!” Lance roared. “He is more than his appearance, but you can’t tell me you’re helping him by telling him he’s a monster! How could Keith ever be happy when all you’ve done is teach him self hate?! You’re right that he deserves a normal life, but this isn’t a normal life and you’re wrong; you’re all wrong! He’s beautiful!” There were people in the crowd who gasped, but Lance ignored them, instead choosing to look past the Shirogane’s in order to lock eyes with Keith, who had his jaw dropped and his eyes even wider than before. “He’s beautiful,” Lance repeated, albeit quieter. It was meant just for Keith. “Inside and out.”

Keith’s features softened immediately into a look of pure love, his smile goofy and spread across his entire face, from ear to ear. Lance could see the pink tint of heat painting Keith’s skin from where he was and it brought a matching smile to his own face. Keith’s ears twitched happily on his head, once again giving away his emotions. Lance didn’t have a single hesitating thought about Keith, because he meant every word. Keith was beautiful.

Allura’s voice drew him back again. “He’s wanted this his entire life. He has worked so hard for this. I am _not_ going to let you take this away. Do you hear me?” She began marching down the aisle with Takashi in tow, furious. “He is going to marry Lotor Galra, and you’re not going to stop him.”

Lance nearly growled at her. “No.” he firmly asserted. “He’s not going to be marrying Lotor. Not now. Not ever.” His voice was low and cold, unwavering in how he spat the words at Allura. She had absolutely no right to make Keith feel the way he did and Lance wasn’t going to let this happen. Over his dead body. Even then, Lance would rise from the grave to stop this wedding if he had to, nothing was beneath him.

“What about what Keith wants?”

Everyone paused and turned to stare at the source of the voice. Hunk was stood there, awkwardly out of place in his bartending uniform and wringing his hands nervously. There was an innocence in his eyes, unable to reflect the same anger and outrage that everyone else was displaying. Just staring at Hunk made Lance calm down.

“What?” Takashi blurted out, breaking everyone out of their intense focus on Hunk.

“What does Keith want? Does he want to break the curse?” Hunk repeated, his eyebrows shooting up in question.

Lance turned away from Hunk, his eyes trailing over to Keith once again. Pidge followed his gaze, as did Allura and Takashi. Keith was stood completely still, unsure of what to say. Lotor, next to him, had his own look of dismay plastered across his face, as if he couldn’t believe that anyone would come to argue for Keith. Luckily, he didn’t say anything.

Allura, with a sureness in the way that her voice echoed over the entire backyard, even as quiet as she was, called out, “Keith, tell us what you want.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *audience holds their breath*  
> OKAY NOW STOP WHATEVER YOU'RE DOING BECAUSE THIS IS URGENT!!!  
> [There is art](http://tiredmichiko.tumblr.com/post/175361483594/late-night-sketches-of-klance-from-sheksper-s) and it's so beautiful??? [tiredmichiko](http://tiredmichiko.tumblr.com/) made this for this fic and it's just so !!! My heart hurts every time I look at it!!


	22. I Like That You're Broken, Broken like Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, it is time for things To Happen.

Keith stood there, frozen. The words that Allura had just said to him were ringing in his ears. What did he want? Well, what _did_ he want? His eyes scanned the faces in the crowd that were watching him, disapproving of the interruption but still completely invested. He wilted under all their eyes, so instead he stared at the people who loved him.

Hunk was holding his hands against his chest, his eyebrows furrowed together and a small frown on his face. It hurt Keith to see such a kind man looking as nervous and anxious as he was. Hunk had always been his friend, right from day one, even before he knew a single thing about Keith. Even after he found out about who Keith really was, he still wanted to be Keith’s friend. Sure, he treated Keith a little bit differently since he wasn’t quite sure what he was supposed to act like, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t trying. Keith valued his friendship.

He looked to Shiro next. There, he saw a look of someone who was trying to act tough and sure of himself but was actually struggling to keep the questioning expression off his face. Shiro was attempting to seem like he knew what the answer was going to be, even as Keith didn’t know. Yet, there was still doubt. He still wasn’t entirely sure that Keith was onboard. And the longer that Keith tried to work out what his own desire was, the more that expression of reservation grew on Shiro’s face.

Keith couldn’t take it, he looked over to Pidge. She had a determined glint to her eyes. It was all the confidence that Shiro was trying to be, but without any of the self-assured smugness. Hers was a look that was completely Pidge, a look that made him feel grounded. She would support him no matter what he did, Keith knew that for sure. She knew that Keith would pick the right choice because whatever choice he made was his own, and that was what mattered to her. Never once had she ever been one to judge, always being the most upfront and level-headed person that Keith had ever met. He was grateful for her presence.

His eyes flicked over to Allura. The way that she looked at Keith made his heart clench and sink. She knew the answer. The correct answer. To her, there wasn’t a question or a choice to be made, because whatever she had wanted had always automatically been branded as being what Keith wanted too. There was a love in her eyes that couldn’t be faked, but that just made the urging, certain tinge that much worse. Keith never wanted to disappoint Allura, not really. What he wanted was to be happy.

And with that thought, his eyes moved on to stare at Lance. The most incredible person that Keith had ever met. Someone who made him feel safe and protected, loved and whole, wild and adventurous; who made him feel happy. Lance had unveiled so many different experiences in Keith’s life, all the way from places to see to people to know. And he made Keith feel things that Keith never thought he would even be allowed to feel. Keith felt confident and sexy with Lance. And it wasn’t just with him or because of him that Keith felt that way, it was an internal feeling that Lance had managed to nourish out of Keith. Lance had taught him that he could love himself, that he wasn’t a monster, that there wasn’t anything to fix, that there hadn’t ever been anything to fix. And Keith, for the first time in his life, had actually believed those things about himself.

Keith turned his head to stare at Lotor. There was a look of surprise and confusion on his face, but underneath it all, when he looked at Keith, there was still that persistent scrunch of his features; disgust. It didn’t matter if Keith’s curse was broken. Keith was a demon in his eyes. He couldn’t even bear to look at Keith, it was just too tall an order for him.

Keith’s eyes fell as he heaved out a sigh. He lifted his hands to stare at the purple spots that bled out from beneath his sleeves and onto his palms, like paint that was permanently dripping down his skin.

He remembered when he was younger. He used to take a pen to his skin and turn all the purple spots along his arms and legs into mythical creatures, giving each of them features. He could recall when he had taken some of his purple paint and filled in the skin around his spots, imagining what it would be like to have completely purple skin. He reminisced about the time when he had first been old enough to understand the tradition of Halloween. When he saw kids dressed up as scary monsters, just like him, having fun and hanging out, Keith had never felt happier. He had felt normal for once.

Now, where was he? About to marry someone he couldn’t stand, who couldn’t stand him right back. For what? The possibility that his curse would be lifted? Then what?

Keith’s curled his fingers around and dug his nails into the palms of his skin. Under his breath, he whispered his answer. Everyone around him began murmuring, complaining that they couldn’t hear what he had said. Keith hadn’t meant them to. He was trying the words out, tasting them, weighing them on his tongue.

With a set to his shoulders, Keith lifted his head to face the people of the wedding, to face his family and friends. “I don’t want this,” he stated. His voice was loud and stern, projecting to even the farthest reaches of the yard. There wasn’t a single crack or waver of uncertainty. His voice was all his own, absolute in its words.

There were gasps, slackened mouths, dropped items, cries of disbelief, and quickened murmuring all through the seats.

He lowered his hands to his sides and set his jaw. His head began shaking all on its own, without any conscious thought. Keith didn’t let anyone get a word in before he was speaking again, repeating it in an attempt to hear himself over his own beating heart, “I don’t want this.” He reached up and unclasped the single button keeping his black jacket together. Then, with a single swift motion, Keith slipped out of his jacket altogether. It crumpled to the floor. “It’s not worth it; lifting the curse,” he continued as he began rolling up the sleeves of his white collared shirt. He kept the vest on.

Allura came rushing up the steps to the little platform, a staggered look on her face. “Keith, stop that!” she ordered. “What are you doing?”

Keith stared her dead in the eyes. He raised his chin just enough to tell her that he wouldn’t be persuaded by her anymore. “I’m making my choice. You asked me what I want.”

Bewildered, Allura looked around, unsure of what she could even do. Her eyes fell to the jacket, sadness welling in her gaze. Finally, she raised her eyes to meet Keith’s again. “Keith, please,” she begged, sympathetically reaching out for Keith’s hands again. “We worked so hard for this.”

Her hands never reached his. Keith pulled away. A resigned sigh escaped him, but he didn’t let her distraught confusion weigh on him. “No, you worked hard for this. I don’t want to marry Lotor, or anyone. I don’t want to worry about the curse anymore.” He knew that everyone could hear everything that he and Allura were saying, which was why he chose his words carefully, not only to let Allura down gently, but also to break the news to the guests as well. “It’s not even a curse. That’s just how I am,” Keith punctuated. And he felt it. He felt like himself, bold and secure. There really was another Keith on the inside that was waiting to get out, but Keith was now realizing that it wasn’t a Keith without big ears, yellow eyes, fangs, and purple spots. That wasn’t the Keith that really needed to come out. It never had been.

“But, Keith,” Allura began again.

Keith cut her off, “But nothing.” A feeling shot up his spine. His eyes watered up, just a bit, and his voice was no longer the strong powerhouse it was before. He breathed in, soft and gentle, barely a whisper, but everyone still heard him loud and clear. He meant every word as they passed his lips, “I like myself the way I am.”

All at once, there was a cacophony of wind. It burst out of the ground, right around Keith’s feet. Allura was forced backwards, stumbling down the stairs. Shiro caught her, shocked. Everyone began yelling and leaping up from their chairs. Lotor released a shout of confusion and flailed back as well. The archway flowers were ripped from their vines in the tornado, littering the aisle. Some of the chairs in the front row were shoved over. The officiant screamed as she fell off the tiny platform and into the grass. Everyone’s hair was whipping around their faces. Hunk stared in slack-jawed awe while Pidge used her arm to cover her face against the wind.

“Keith!” Lance cried, rushing forward. His voice was nearly drowned out in the thundering wind that filled Keith’s ears.

Keith had half a second to see Lance’s panicked expression and desperately reaching hand outstretched before him, then everything was swallowed up by the wind. It circled around him, faster and faster. Keith’s clothes slapped against his body, stuck in a cycle of being ripped away and forced into the middle. Keith’s hair plastered against his face. He instinctively clenched his eyes shut and clamped his hands over his ears to protect from the raging winds as they closed in around him.

Everything he had ever seen, done, said, heard, experienced flashed all around him suddenly. It crashed into him, every memory. The wind rocked his mind through his past, one memory to the next, taking him on a timeline journey. Keith wanted to scream. His mouth was open. Maybe he _was_ screaming. The wind was deafening.

He could see everything. Himself as a young boy, staring in the mirror, folding his ears around. Being a teenager, confused and scared as his ears grew and his fangs poked farther out of his gums. All the paper cranes he had made while watching morning cartoons. Playing Hide-and-Seek with Coran around the mansion. Learning everything he knew about the outside world from books and television programs. The time when he would peak through the window curtains, only to be quickly ushered away by Allura. Learning Japanese from Shiro. Painting his walls when he was bored. Every book he ever read. Every instrument he ever played. Throwing knives he had ordered online at the wall until Shiro came to chastise him. All the suitors he had met and scared away. Every night he had fallen asleep with tears staining his pillows and a strain in his heart that would never be filled.

All of it. All at once.

It stopped.

Everything quieted. The wind died down, receding back into the ground from where it had come. There was a staticky silence. Keith was abruptly aware of his body, as if he had just been shoved back into consciousness for the first time since the wind had started up. His hands were flat against his head. He frowned, digging his fingers into his hair as he searched for his ears. They weren’t there. Panic leaped in his heart and he opened his eyes, frantically patting at his head.

“Oh my god…” someone breathed.

“Holy shit…” heaved somebody else.

Keith paused in his hunt for his ears to stare over at his friends and family. As windblown as they were, they didn’t seem very concerned. All eyes were on Keith, wide and disbelieving. Allura had a hand to her mouth, there to catch the shocked sputters that were tumbling from her lips.

“Wh–What?” Keith choked. He felt like he hadn’t used his voice in a thousand years. That wasn’t even what he noticed first though. His mouth felt empty. It was the feeling of losing a tooth, like a hole that shouldn’t be there. He furrowed his eyebrows and smoothed his tongue along his teeth. They were smooth. All of them. He had no fangs. His canines were just regular teeth. Keith nearly vomited right then from sheer disorientation.

“You… You look…” Shiro stuttered, pointing at Keith, unable to say the words.

Keith’s hands – which were fisted in his hair, devastated at the loss of his ears – slid back down. He stared at them. There were no marks. Keith practically ripped the cuffs off his shirt in his attempt to see his skin, but it didn’t matter. There were no marks. None. Nothing. Just the solid, unwavering, pale colour of Keith’s skin.

“Your eyes…” Lance spoke. His voice trailed off, unreadable.

Keith looked at him, really looked at him. And it was strange, because it didn’t feel the same. Everywhere he looked, something indescribable felt off. Quickly, Keith scanned the platform. He zeroed in on a metallic vase in the grass from where it had been blown off its pedestal. He hopped off the platform. Cautiously, Keith stood above the vase. He looked down. Staring back at him were two eyes, not a hint of yellow. There was a white sclera, there was a black pupil, and his irises were a deep violet shade.

Lurching back, Keith choked in a breath. Those were his eyes. That was what his eyes looked like.

The curse was broken.

“Keith,” Allura called out. She stepped closer, her arms wrapped in close to herself as she tried to figure out a way to address this. “Keith, you broke the curse…” Keith was just as baffled as she was. Everyone approached Keith right behind her.

Pidge stepped out from behind Allura. “It’s a good look for you,” she commented, a small smile working over her features. There was a still a look of wonder glimmering within her eyes.

“I don’t know,” Shiro laughed. He stepped in close to Keith and put two fingers up behind Keith’s head. Keith tried to turn around, confused, but Shiro just laughed and repositioned him so he was facing the others. “What do you say to getting two cat ears put in right around here?”

Allura huffed out a laugh, somewhere just short of a sob, even with the tears threatening her eyelids. Hunk giggled and pulled Pidge in for a hug as he broke down into happy tears. Lance smiled brightly and stepped forward, grabbing his boyfriend’s hands. Keith let him, welcoming Lance’s open arms like they were a warm blanket. He pressed his nose into Lance’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, his voice muffled against Lance’s shirt.

“Hey, you don’t have to apologize,” Lance cooed, rubbing his hand up Keith’s back. “You do look good though. You always look good, Keith.”

Turning his head, Keith jokingly asked, “You don’t miss not knowing where I’m looking?”

Lance’s body rumbled with laughter and he tugged Keith a little closer. “Well, maybe a bit.”

“Group hug!” Hunk cheered.

There was a sudden weight pressing into Lance’s back and an arm wrapping around Keith’s back. Pidge squiggled her way in, right next to Hunk. Her arms clasped around Keith’s torso. Keith could hear as Shiro and Allura chuckled and shuffled forward to join. They held on to Lance and Keith’s other sides. Everyone grinned and laughed together. And everything felt complete. Keith’s heart was full. He loved these people so much, and he could finally feel like he was apart of a bigger thing, a larger group. He wasn’t an outlier. It wasn’t because of his appearance, it was because of the newfound love that he had for himself.

After a moment, everyone pulled away until it was just Keith in Lance’s arms. Keith lifted his head to smile at Lance. He expected a smile back. Instead, he got startled puzzlement. “What?”

Lance stared blankly for a moment. “Your one eye is yellow,” he blurted out.

“Huh?” Keith reared back a bit. A cold shiver snaked its way around his head and his ear tingled for a moment. The feeling was quickly copied by the other ear. Keith shook for a moment and flinched back. It passed almost as fast as it came.

Around him, Allura, Shiro, Pidge, Hunk, and Lance all stared in shock. “Your ears are back,” Lance commented.

Keith twitched his ear, noticing just how much his hearing had improved. He pulled away from Lance completely to focus on his ears and eyes. Everyone watched him. “I think… I think I can… If I…” Keith put all of his focus onto his eyes really doing his best to get a feel for the difference in how his new eyes felt compared to his old eyes. And suddenly, as if flipping a switch, his eye rolled back into his head, then flicked back down into place. They were both yellow once more. He tried again, this time with both of them. It was more difficult. He really pictured on the way his purple eyes felt, then launched his eyes back until they pulled themselves back down. Purple. He could change his eyes.

“You can control your changes?!” Pidge hollered, racing towards him suddenly. “That’s so fucking cool!” She grabbed Keith’s arm and tugged him down to meet her. She pushed back his eyelids and began inspecting his eyes.

“Pidge!” Hunk chastised, swatting her hands away from Keith’s face. Keith wasn’t that bothered though. He chuckled along with the whimsy of it all.

Shiro stared at Keith, intense yet kind. He had perfectly mastered the look and Keith had seen it many times, but that didn’t mean that he wasn’t still put off by it. Shiro smiled then, reassuring and proud. “You look good. You look happy,” he commented. Keith huffed a small laugh and ducked his head. “I’m sorry, Keith, for everything.” He pulled Keith in for a hug, one which was easily accepted. “I’m really proud of you.”

And maybe Keith’s eyes welled up at that. They were words that Keith had wanted to hear for so long, and there he was, hearing them, finally. His ears twitched happily as he buried his face in Shiro’s chest. When he pulled away, the smile on his face couldn’t be disrupted for anything.

“Keith, I’m so sorry,” Allura told him next. She placed a hand on Keith’s shoulder, steadying him as she apologized. “I had no idea how much I was really hurting you, but that doesn’t excuse it. I hope you can forgive me.” Her face was practically dripping with remorse and grief as she poured her heart out to Keith.

Rather than answer, Keith just rushed forward and scooped her into a hug. He wasn’t usually one to initiate hugs, but he felt the need to hold her when she was making such a pitiful face. She had just been misguided, not truly understanding that Keith wasn’t happy. Maybe part of it was Keith’s fault too for letting it go on for so long. In the end, it had all been a lot of pain for both of them without reason. But there was room to fix it. Keith knew that, with time, he would come to forgive Allura. He had to get used to switching between features first though.

As Keith pulled away, he saw the teary-eyed smile on Allura’s face. She nodded, mostly to herself. Then, with a laugh, she cupped Keith’s jaw with her hand. Her thumb tapped part of his chin. “Your spots are back,” she giggled.

Keith couldn’t help but grin at that.

Allura glanced over at Lance, Pidge, and Hunk. They were all just enjoying the new understanding that the Shirogane family was seeing. Her smile dimmed. She removed her hand from Keith’s face and gently approached them, her violet gown dragging through the grass as she went. “I want to apologize to all of you as well,” she offered with a smile. They all looked slightly taken aback. “I misjudged all of you and assumed you were trying to hurt Keith, but I see now that that isn’t true. You’re his friends and he’s lucky to have people like you in his life.” Her eyes focused in on one particular member of the group. “Lance, you gave me many reasons not to trust you, but you’ve proven here today that you really do care a lot about Keith. Please, treat him well,” she concluded.

Shiro joined in at Allura’s side. He reached over to slap Lance on the back good-naturedly. “I’m sorry too, for being so rough with you. I accused you of things that you didn’t do, which I apologize for. I just don’t want Keith to get hurt.” His eyes hardened suddenly and his gaze was an icy dagger straight into Lance’s soul. “So, Keith better not get hurt,” his words were weighted.

“Understood,” Lance swallowed.

“I think a celebratory dinner could make all of this go away!” Hunk suddenly announced, the brightest grin on his face.

Pidge, who was stood next to him, stared up at Hunk with horrified shock. “Are you extorting them for free food?!” she cried. The corner of her mouth twitched up. “That’s geni–”

“That’s not what I meant!” Hunk defended, shaking his hands in front of him as he tried to rectify the situation.

“That’s not genius, right, that was what I was going to say too,” Pidge covered, staring off to the side. Her suspicious look gave her away more than her obvious slip up did.

Hunk frowned at her, although it was more of a fond look than anything. Keith often wondered if Hunk was capable of looking at his friends with any expression other than care and love. So far, Keith had yet to see such an expression.

“I meant that we should all have dinner at my bar, on me,” Hunk explained.

Lance’s face immediately brightened. Swinging his arm around his best friend’s shoulder, Lance agreed, “Buddy, that’s the best idea you’ve ever had!”

Allura and Shiro shared a look between themselves, smiling in agreement. Then, Allura turned back to address the others, “That’s a wonderful idea, Hunk!”

Keith smiled fondly as Hunk began to rave about all the food he was going to make and just how much fun it was going to be. No one bothered to check on the guests, no one bothered to check on Lotor. Everything was destroyed and they stood amongst the carnage. Keith’s ears shifted back and forth, his eyes changed colour, his fangs sometimes reappeared, and his spots bled through his skin on occasion. And still, no one bothered with any of it. They all just stood there, and for the first time ever, they communicated properly, eye-to-eye.

And Keith was never happier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, just before we get to the last chapter here, I wanna say that the title of this entire story, Gold Holds No Value Here, was taken from a line in the Sleeping At Last song, Three. Y'all should go listen to that and have a cry. I'm sure everyone is familiar with Sleeping At Last, it's pretty much an unspoken requirement in the Voltron community at this point.


	23. Reverie Whisper in My Ear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe we're at the end already. What a journey it has been.  
> This chapter is a bit long; it's verging on 5k words. I hope no one will mind that.  
> There is also some [incredible art](https://sheksper.tumblr.com/post/175848094470/genoseraph-this-fanart-is-for-sheksper-the) curtesy of genoseraph on Tumblr and [Demon_Queen on AO3.](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Demon_Queen/profile) I am in love with it! It says 'thank you' but really I'm the one who should be saying thank you!!  
> And with that being said, let's get into it!

Keith sped around the corner, leaning into the move and ducking down lower, just barely making it before the light changed to red. He was already a bit late, he didn’t need to make it worse by getting swallowed up by the traffic lights. Luckily, the roads were pretty clear and open, enough so that Keith wouldn’t miss too much, he would make it at a reasonable time. It also helped that the crisp autumn air was cool with just a bit of a bite to it as night quickly approached. The way it whipped against his arms and chest opened his lungs right up, filling him with a sense of renewal. He felt alive, and no matter how late he was, he always found time to enjoy that same freeing sensation that he always experienced on his motorcycle. It was his pride and joy.

Finally, Keith rounded the last corner and rolled up onto the street he was headed for. There were a few parking spots out front, just big enough that Keith was able to comfortably squeeze his bike right in there. Rumbling, the bike coasted along into the open space. It putted a couple times as Keith quickly flicked down the kickstand. He switched the bike off, pocketing his keys in his leather jacket. After unclasping it, Keith slipped the helmet off of his head and shook his hair out. As he gracefully kicked his leg over the side of the bike to fully stand on the sidewalk, he gave one last glance over his shoulder at his motorcycle. She was a true beauty, Red, and Keith’s heart got excited every time he laid his eyes on her. Keith smiled.

A loud whoop from the building in front of him drew his attention in. Keith scanned the crowd of the many people who were filling up the bar, bumping into each other, and just having a generally fun time. A smile slipped over Keith’s face. He quickly retrieved the bag that he had stored in the back of the motorcycle and hung it across the arm that held his helmet. With one swoop of his hand through his hair, Keith stepped purposely towards the door of the Kerberos Pub. His helmet was hiked up under his arm as he heaved the door open and entered the building.

The second he crossed the threshold, the warmth of the bar washed over him, painting him in the subdued glow of the overhead lights. His smile widened. Where the street was a welcoming and kind handshake with a polite greeting, the bar was a sudden and all-encompassing bear hug, rowdy in nature but well-meaning nonetheless. Keith never failed to feel at home in the bar, like the building itself was an old friend. All around him, people were shuffling and moving about, each with an excited grin on their face and a cold beer in their hand. It was like an entire sea of people. The thing that really caught Keith’s eye, though, were the copious number of decorations that littered the bar, as well as the people.

From the ceiling, there hung orange and black orbs, each with their own little light source that showered the bar in a coloured glow. The overhead lights were covered with thin layers of orange paper, adding to the fire-like ambiance. The entire room felt cozier and more mysterious the way that the dimmed, orange light cascaded down. The back of the bar, from what Keith could see through the throngs of people, was decorated with a hand painted banner. Long spindly trees and menacing pumpkins, each with a wicked face carved onto it. There were witches on brooms and tall, lopsided houses. Keith could see a hint of a zombie hand coming up from a grave near the end of the banner. All along the ceiling, fake cobwebs and flowing, distressed cloths dangled down, just high enough that they couldn’t be torn down, but still low enough to create an atmosphere.

It wasn’t just the bar that was dressed for the spookiest night of the year, because everywhere that Keith looked, people were made up in various costumes and outfits. Keith could see a gal who was a ladybug, there was a clown in the corner, at least two girls were nurses. A guy by the front door was dressed as a prisoner, complete with big plastic handcuffs. A police officer was stood next to him, telling him something that must have been hilarious. There was a couple who were both dressed as cave people near the middle of the crowd. He saw at least four devils when he scanned the heads of all the customers and costumers. Zombies, fairies, pirates, superheroes, sailors, you name it, someone was dressed as it.

Keith pushed the helmet farther under his arm and scooted his way around the groups of people who were gathering by the front door. For as jam-packed as it was, it was also very comfortable and enjoyable. Keith slipped along, skirting around a fairly accurate Donald Trump who was doing an impression for a gal dressed as a bee, until he was able to make it to the bar. The orange lights that lined the bar were like a beacon which Keith aimed for. Leaning over the wooden counter, careful not to scrape his helmet along the finish, Keith’s eyes scanned the back of the bar. There, near the end, was the person he was hunting for. “Hunk! Hey, Hunk!” Keith called out to the man who was running the bar, happily filling up mugs with beer for the rowdy patrons at the counter. Everyone was laughing and singing along with the loud music that poured out of the overhead speakers and tapped at people’s feet, coercing them into dancing along.

The man at the end of the bar perked up at the sound of his name, turning to the source of it with a friendly smile. As his eyes landed on Keith, his entire face broke out into a beaming smile and he place the glass in his hand on the counter to quickly meet up with Keith. “Hey, man, glad you could make it!”

“Yeah, sorry, we ran a little bit later than usual,” Keith apologized, shouting over the loud bustling people around him.

Hunk waved a hand at Keith, his face scrunching up like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “No, don’t apologize, you take all the time you need! We can always wait, you know that!” he told him with a gentle and welcoming smile.

Keith smiled back, nodding along as he was filled with that same happy warmth that always snuck up on him whenever he was reminded of what great friends he had. “Thanks, Hunk,” he sincerely added. Then, just before the moment became too gushy, Keith shifted his eyes to Hunk’s neck. “You look good, by the way. Did you make your costume yourself?”

Hunk’s face was green, and not from any form of sickness, it was paint. There were sutures painted across his face at an angle, halving his face. One half was a lighter green than the other, but it still created the desired effect of different pieces of sickly flesh that had been stitched together. The wig on his head made the shape of his skull look so unnaturally square, but in the most realistic way. Two protruding screws bracketed his neck, leaving no room for debate about what Hunk was dressed as. Keith was honestly very impressed with Hunk’s costume.

Like a lightbulb, Hunk’s face lit up and he glanced down at his own costume. Adjusting his shirt a little bit with pride, he replied, “Thank you! Yeah, I did make it! I’m a huge fan of Halloween, as you can tell.” Hunk laughed and gestured around the bar at all the different decorations, which Keith was just as impressed with.

“No kidding,” Keith said.

“Speaking of which,” Hunk’s eyes narrowed suspiciously, “where’s your costume?”

Keith held up the bag on his arm to illustrate that he had yet to change into it, but that he had, in fact, brought it. “Right here,” Keith answered.

Hunk returned back to his bright grin. “Awesome! What are you dressing up as? Or wait, don’t tell me! I want it to be a surprise.” Hunk pointed over to the staircase near the back of the bar. “You can change upstairs. I think Lance is still up there, actually. He’s been up there for awhile, perfecting his costume. I’m starting to get worried. Make sure he’s still alive, will you?” Hunk asked, turning back to Keith with a playfully exasperated sighed as they both knew how overdramatic Lance could be about dressing up.

Keith nodded and huffed a laugh, “Yeah, I’ll go check on him. See you, Hunk.” He punctuated his sentence with a tap of his hand into the bar, then he pushed off and disappeared through the crowd once again. He sidled through the gaps between the groups of people, trying to get around them to make his way to the other end of the bar where the stairs were located. A guy in a morph suit nearly backed into Keith, but he managed to slip past him quickly enough. His helmet jostled against some of the partygoers, but none of them seemed too bothered by the interruption.

There was a small break in the people which allowed Keith to slip through. Away from everyone, Keith took his free moment to breathe deeply. There were a lot of people and it was almost suffocating with all of them pressed together like that. Already, Keith was starting to get agitated with all of them, but he just adjusted his helmet under his arm and hurried up the stairs where he would be able to calm himself down and get his outfit put together.

As he began to ascend the stairs, his gaze falling over the crowded bar at the many different people, his mind wandered. He could remember the very first time that he had ever been to one of these huge bar parties that Hunk set up every year. It had been for Lance’s birthday though, and that was two years ago. It was an all new experience to be apart of something so big and celebratory then, because Keith had never been to a party at all at that point in his life.

Ah, yes. Back then, when Keith was younger and knew less of the world around him, when he was sick and his mind was convinced of many things that he now knew weren’t true. He was better now, not perfect, but his mind was healing. He could look in a mirror without wanting to tear his own skin off, in fact, he was even proud of the way he looked a lot of the time. And sometimes, he could even catch a glimpse of the beauty that Lance had always told him he possessed.

It took a lot of work to get where he was though. After everything that had happened at the wedding, things had started to slow down a bit, but they were also picking up, in a way. It was a strange, new balance. Everything that happened was still very fast paced and intense with many new experiences, but not like it had been before. He wasn’t afraid of anyone anymore. No one was out to harass him. Allura and Shiro weren’t telling him that he needed to be fixed anymore, because they finally started to understand their actions. Lotor left him alone completely after that. And once more, the city was his friend, and although there were people that Allura had warned him about, those who saw him purely as a freak of nature or a circus side show, there were still many kind people who wanted to welcome him into the city.

Keith’s life had taken a new path, and although it was a long path, it was much healthier. Keith felt like he had strength and power in his own destiny for the first time in a long time. It took a long while of being out in the open, accepting the way he looked, and learning to shift his features around with ease before Keith was really comfortable with the way he looked, though, but even then, there was a lot of work to do.

Therapy. Not just for himself, but for Shiro, Allura, and Coran as well. Family therapy did a lot for Keith, he felt. And as far as he could tell, it was a healthy thing for his family members too. Brick by brick, they had built up their stunted and miscommunicated relationships. Keith had his own therapy too, just so that he could have some form of self esteem, but he also had his family therapy, which was where he had been before the party. It really did feel like it was making a difference in his life. He didn’t feel nearly as hopeless and worthless as he had all his life. It was freeing. It was like breathing fresh air for the first time after nearly drowning.

Allura had some healing to do as well. As it turned out, just like Keith had gotten treatment for his depression, Allura had recently begun to get proper treatment for her paranoia towards people hurting Keith. At first it had been a normal sort of fear, but after many years, it had gotten so out of hand that Allura struggled to watch Keith do anything without being completely convinced something – anything – would kill him. And that wasn’t healthy.

Shiro didn’t have anything that needed immediate treatment, but he was dealing with a horrible, gut-wrenching guilt that was like a wet blanket draped over his back, weighing him down. He hadn’t known how much he had been hurting Keith, just like Allura hadn’t. Somehow, between the two of them, they had convinced themselves that it was what was best for Keith, despite all the obvious signs that it wasn’t. It was like he physically and mentally could not notice it. But once he had, he couldn’t even believe that he had let himself get that way.

Coran, since the wedding, had taken to doing everything that he could to help Keith out and to rectify all that he was apart of before. And Keith really appreciated that since Coran never meant harm, he could never mean harm. The effort that Coran put in on a daily basis was, and had always been, admirable, but it was even more so through the actions that Coran took to gain Keith’s trust back. He still spoke a hell of a lot though, always telling stories, and to an extent, Keith considered those stories as acts of trust as well.

Suddenly, right as Keith’s mind was in the middle of reminiscing, a voice called down to him from the top floor. “Hey, Keith, there you are!”

Keith flicked his head toward the sound and was met with the grinning face of Pidge. And even as he stared at her, he still had a hard time telling it was even her for a moment. Had it not been for the fact that she had called down to him, he probably wouldn’t have even recognized her at all, thinking her just another partygoer. She had a red hat placed backwards on her head, which only served to bring more attention to her hair, which Keith presumed had been dyed black, although it could have just been a really good wig. Her glasses were nowhere to be seen and Keith had to hope that she was wearing contacts, or else she was in danger of taking a tumble down the stairs. She wore a blue and white jacket along with green gloves.

“Ash Ketchum, huh?” Keith commented, raising an impressed eyebrow.

Pidge stood up prouder, puffing her chest out bravely. “You know it!” she announced. “Where’s your costume?” She stepped down the stairs, watching Keith the entire way down. “If you aren’t dressed up for Halloween, Keith, I’ll kick you out of my bar.”

“This is Hunk’s bar,” Keith pointed out.

Pidge stared him dead in the eye, and there was something indescribably intimidating about it. “That will not stop me,” she stated bluntly.

Keith raised both eyebrows, understanding that Pidge wasn’t one to joke about these sorts of celebrations. Keith, once again, held up his bag to indicate that he had it and it hadn’t been forgotten. “Yeah, yeah. I’ve got a costume.”

Pidge, who had come close enough to touch Keith, smacked him on the side of the arm before jabbing a thumb back towards the way she had come. “Well, get a move on then, or you’ll miss the entire party! Lance is up there too.” She rolled her eyes and joshed, “You’d think he was dressing up as a prince with how high and mighty he’s acting about it.”

Keith snorted. “Sounds about right,” he agreed.

Pidge gave one last glance over her shoulder, a sort of subdued smirk on her face that she was obviously trying to hide twitched at her lip. Keith narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “Why don’t you go find out what he’s actually dressed as,” she said suddenly, turning to grin at Keith with that same amused look. Then, she gave a gentle shove to his shoulder before continuing down the stairs again. Keith watched her leave, his eyebrows drawing together in confusion. Once Pidge had disappeared back into the crowd, no longer identifiable amongst all the taller, colourfully dressed people, Keith continued his trek up the stairs.

At the top of the stairs, Keith continued along the darkened balcony, trailing his free hand over the banister as he went. There was a wall along the back of the shop with a door that faced the front of the bar. It led to Hunk’s home, or at least the part of the bar where Hunk lived when he wasn’t working. Hunk really loved his bar, it was a huge part of his life so, of course, he would be attached to it.

Keith took a quick glance over the banister at the people below. Then, he disappeared into the shadows of the upper floor and turned the doorknob. It wasn’t locked, luckily, but as far as Keith was aware, Lance was the only one who was upstairs anyway so it didn’t really make much difference if he just wandered in or not.

With that thought in mind, Keith slowly pushed the door open and slipped inside before quickly shutting it behind him with a click. The room was just as dark as the rest of the balcony with only a single light coming from the bedroom. Keith checked over his shoulder, then he made his way towards the door to the bedroom. It was ajar, but as Keith peeked in, he saw that the room was empty. The bathroom at the other end of the room, however, was closed and light seeped out from the creases of the door. Clacking and shifting came from beyond it. Lance. Keith’s feet tapped against the wooden floorboards as he approached.

“Lance?” Keith called out.

There was a startled noise, followed by Lance’s voice calling back through the wood of the door, “Keith, you’re here!” He awkwardly laughed. “That’s great. That’s really… great.”

Keith narrowed his eyes and took another step forward. “Are you alright?”

“Oh! Yes, I’m fine!” Lance replied, almost too quickly.

“Are you sure? You sound off,” Keith commented. His mouth twisted suspiciously.

There was another clattering before Lance’s voice, now closer to the door, answered, “Yeah, I’m just finishing up my costume, give me a minute.” His voice sounded more playful, bubbling up an entirely new brand of confused within Keith.

“Okay…” he responded. “I’ll just change out here then.”

“Sounds good!” Lance chirped.

Keith nodded to no one in particular and backed up farther into the centre of the bedroom. He placed his helmet on the bed along with the bag of costume supplies. For the most part, Keith already was wearing most of the outfit. His shirt was a light tan dress shirt with his leather jacket over top, although it wasn’t his red leather jacket, it was a different one which he had bought specifically for his costume. His pants were about the same colour as his shirt, perhaps one shade difference. He wore the same black boots he always did, but he was changing out of those.

Lance’s voice floated out from behind the door again, a giggly tone about it, “You’re going to love this, Keith.”

Keith glanced back over his shoulder. “Am I actually going to love it or should I be worried?” he asked, skeptical. Keith removed his boots and set them on the floor next to the bed as he awaited Lance’s response.

There was a scoff. “When have you ever not loved my costume?”

Keith pulled a pair of folded up black boots out of the bag and replaced his old ones with those. They reached his mid shin. He snorted as he yanked at the top of his left one, fitting it into place. “Did you forget about your Barry B. Benson costume?” he rhetorically asked. Keith took a few test steps in his boots until he was comfortable with how they were adjusted, then he returned to the bag and retrieved an aviator hat.

Lance gasped at the mention, “What’re you talking about? That costume was so good!”

Keith shook his head to himself as he rooted around in the bag. “You better not be a minion, that’s all I can say.”

At the other end of the room, above a dresser, there was a mirror. Shifting around, Keith watched in the mirror as he slipped the hat onto his head with careful precision, making sure the entire time that he was shifted over to his human ears. It fit snuggly and his hair flared out around his neck and forehead.

“You didn’t even see me much that night, you were always on the other end of the room somehow,” Lance retorted.

After shuffling around in the bag some more, Keith grabbed the goggles that went with the hat. He glanced back to the mirror and fit the goggles into place. Absently, he countered, “Yeah, there was a reason for that, and it was your costume.”

Lance sputtered on the other end of the door, “You were avoiding me?!”

In response, Keith just laughed, although he found enough guilt within himself to at least try stifling it.

“I can’t believe I’m just finding out about this now! You better not avoid me this time, Keith, or I’ll hunt you down.”

“No promises.” Keith smirked to himself as he went about fixing the final touch; the addition of a white scarf which he twirled around his neck twice until he was the perfect picture of a pilot from the 1920’s. He even took care to shift his features over until his skin was one solid colour and his eyes were not. He decided to keep his fangs though, just because they made his smirk sharp. Once he was pleased, he smiled and nodded to himself in the mirror.

Suddenly, as he was in the midst of admiring his own reflection, the door behind him clicked and opened. Keith looked to Lance in the mirror, completely ready to see him dressed as some sort of meme, but as his eyes landed on his boyfriend, his mouth opened involuntarily. He whipped around to stare at Lance in person.

“What do you think?” Lance asked smugly, holding his arms out to show off his look.

Lance wore a grey shirt with solid black skinny jeans, and on his feet, black boots. Around his waist he had tied a red leather jacket. Not just any red leather jacket, it was Keith’s cropped one. Keith hadn’t needed it, so he wasn’t entirely sure where he had left it. It was clear now where it had gone though. That wasn’t what was drawing Keith’s attention in though, no, that was Lance’s face. Over his eyes, Lance had put yellow contact lenses. There was nothing there but a solid plane of yellow. When he grinned at Keith, a pair of glued on fangs were clearly visible on his canines. There were purple marks painted with face paint all over Lance’s face, neck, and arms in a nearly identical pattern to Keith’s own. Atop his head, Lance had attached a pair of brown, cat-like ears which blended nearly seamlessly into his tousled hair.

Keith took an uncertain step forward, his eyes widened. “What…?” he breathed, not really sure what else he could say.

Lance spun around, showing off his entire outfit. The jacket around his waist flowed outward. “It’s pretty good, right?” Lance laughed. He paused his spinning to approach Keith, his hands out in front of him in order to grab Keith’s own hands once he was close enough. “I thought I’d be something sexy this year,” he purred, his tone playful as he grinned at Keith.

Whether it was from the elaborate costume or the compliment itself, Keith couldn’t help but snicker to himself as he stared at Lance. Quickly, his smile smoothed out from an amused grin into a soft, loving smile. He squeezed Lance’s hand and took a step forward. “Well, it’s better than a minion,” he teased.

Lance laughed, burying his face in Keith’s shoulder suddenly to stifle it. His hands slipped out of Keith’s in order for his arms to find their way around Keith’s neck. It pulled Keith even closer against his chest, not that Keith was complaining. Keith’s hands immediately settled onto Lance’s hips as if they were made to connect perfectly, two piece of the puzzle that was them.

Lance pulled his face away to look Keith in the eye. That teasing glint he had in his eyes was still there, glimmering at Keith. Even through the yellow contacts that covered his eyes, Keith could identify it. Something about that felt weird to Keith. He was seeing his own eyes on the one he loved, and even with how fake they looked over Lance’s cornea, he could still find the life in them. Had it been that way for Lance too? Keith liked that thought.

“That’s good to hear, Flyboy, because you’re looking better than a minion too,” he replied, his voice lower, although still sarcastic.

Keith turned his head off to the side in hopes that Lance wouldn’t notice him struggling not to laugh, but he was rarely so lucky.

Slowly, Lance pressed forward. He smiled against Keith’s cheek. “Hey, Mr. Pilot,” Lance began, moving his mouth along Keith’s skin methodically, with intention. Keith shivered at the feeling. “I’d let you go full throttle down my runway,” Lance whispered.

Even with the feeling of Lance’s hot breath against his earlobe, Keith couldn’t help but bark out a laugh at that. He sank into Lance’s chest, still laughing as Lance tightened his hold. The grin pulling at his face was so wide that it started to hurt. He shook his head, unable to believe that this was really his boyfriend. Finally, he straightened himself and faced Lance, still holding onto his waist. Lance had a shit-eating smile plastered over his mischievous face, highlighting his fake fangs, but Keith managed to school his own smile away before speaking.

“I’m actually a helicopter pilot,” Keith informed Lance, earning a raised eyebrow in return. “I’ll get you up faster.”

Lance guffawed, loudly and without restriction. He tossed his head back, nearly dislodging the cat ears atop his head entirely. His entire body shook with laughter. Keith chuckled along with him, unable to stop himself as he watched Lance. They both just stood there, laughing and holding each other, feeling the pounding of the music beneath their feet as it reverberated through the floorboards.

When Lance calmed himself enough, he released a light, happy breath. It could almost be a sigh, even. His arms tightened minutely around Keith’s shoulders. Keith could see it in the crinkles in Lance’s skin around his mouth and eyes as his smile stretched just a little bit wider. Keith’s own face mirrored, almost against his will. The two stood there, just holding each other and smiling, staring at the other like it was the first time seeing each other all over again.

“C’mon,” Lance eventually breathed, “we have a party to get to.”

Keith huffed a laugh and nodded. Then, Lance pulled away in favour of grabbing Keith’s hand to lead him out of the room. Every step that Keith took, holding Lance’s hand and following along behind him, made his heart swell a little more. As the orange glow bleeding in through the banister swallowed him just like the thumping of the music and the cheering of the partygoers, Keith knew he was where he wanted to be, doing what he wanted to be doing, with people who he loved and who loved him right back. Including himself. And Keith, for all that he had been through and everything that his appearance had brought him, was finally free, but not of the curse. No, Keith was free of his reservations, his loneliness, his pain, and above all else, he was free to be happy in the way that he saw fit.

Right then, though, the way he saw his happiness was as a warm and welcoming bar occupied by Frankenstein’s monster, Ash Ketchum, ‘Keith Kogane,’ and a 1920’s pilot all sharing stories over a round of beers. And it was more than enough. Keith was more than enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end!! Ta-da!!  
> Did you enjoy it? I hope so! Don't be afraid to let me know your thoughts. I appreciate hearing from the people who read my work! It helps me improve, and it just makes me happy because I do this to make other people happy.  
> And a huge thank you to everyone who read this and commented and left a kudos and just were here on my page in general! That means the world to me. Thank you!  
> Also thank you to everyone who made art??? I can't believe how many people made art! That's insane! I had to be resurrected after every one because my heart stopped each time.  
> Speaking of art, I, rather than actually working on my next fic, have just been sitting in bed all day drawing Keith because I'm exhausted and uninspired. It will take a lot longer than usual to post a new fic because I had nothing written before and drawing Keith in the Barbarian Armour from Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild just because I think it looks badass is not helping my case at all. There will be more fics coming though! I swear it! So, if you are interested in that _maybe you might wanna subscribe, I don't know, totally up to you..._  
>  And with that, I leave you once more! Sheksper, out.

**Author's Note:**

> See you in three days!


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